Trapped in Another Past
by Copper's Mama
Summary: Sylar/Claire fic. Cross-Over with Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Season 4. Sylar and Claire DO get sucked into Canfield's vortex, and wind up in Sunnydale California, 8 years in the past. Please read and review! Edited and Updated!
1. Chapter 1

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_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: The only part I own of Heroes and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, is the complete series of both on DVD. I am making no money from this fic, just having far too much fun with the characters. _

_..._

_A/N: This one was number 67 on my list of Sylar/Claire fics to write. This fic is written for __**ravynsprt**__, who gave me the idea for the story. _

_It takes place during the season 3 episode "Angels and Monsters", but as though Sylar and Claire __were__ sucked into the vortex. They come through to Sunnydale in the year 2000. In the Buffy-verse, it will take place after the episode "Hush". Riley doesn't accept Buffy for who she is after discovering that she's the Slayer, and Willow and Tara's relationship progresses without the reappearance of Oz. I will try to stick to the season 4 Buffy timeline as much as possible, but the opening of the vortex into Sunnydale - in this fic - causes a shift, and temporarily opens the Hellmouth. Dozens of Uber-Vamps escape, so that will be the main "vampiric" focus of the story. This in turn also causes a mass amount of demons to come to Sunnydale. I'm not sure how much of Riley and the Initiative will be incorporated into this story. _

_Also, for the purposes of this story, Sylar doesn't think that Angela is his mother, thereby having no familial relation to Claire. _

_Alrighty ... hopefully this won't be too confusing. And hopefully, writing this fic will inspire me to finish my other Buffy crossover. _

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

The last thing she heard before she felt Sylar's body collide with hers, was the sound of her father's screams. It seemed odd to her that such a noise could be drawn from him, but she supposed a man might do all kinds of surprising things when the prospect of losing his daughter became readily apparent.

There was a sinking feeling in her gut the second that Sylar lost his hold on his anchor, and then they were both flying into the vortex that Stephen Canfield had created. Claire closed her eyes, expecting to feel the world shut out around her. She figured that this was finally the end, that this would finally be the thing that killed her.

Instead, what she felt was Sylar's sturdy form wrapping around her own, as they spun rapidly through the abyss.

She didn't know how long they were falling, she didn't know if they would ever stop - but suddenly, she felt as though she were being ejected from the vortex. She had a moment to suck in air, and then it was driven from her lungs as her body impacted with the ground.

Claire groaned at the crushed feeling, her body already starting to repair itself. Another time, this would have hurt like hell. But ever since Sylar's visit, she'd lost the ability to feel pain.

That thought brought her back to the situation she was in, and she realized that part of the crushing sensation was from Sylar being sprawled on top of her. She shifted underneath him, and he began to lift his head.

"Get off me," she spoke through clenched teeth, remembering what had happened the last time they'd been alone together.

His body wasn't as damaged as hers - what with her breaking his fall and all - but he actually could feel pain. When his wrists and hands repaired themselves, he pulled them out from under her and lifted himself up shakily, before hoisting himself up enough to roll off of her.

"We're alive," he commented briefly, glancing over at he. His expression darkened immediately.

Claire followed his gaze, shrieking when she realized that she was naked. A quick look at him informed her that he was as well. Claire clapped her hands over her breasts, sitting up and tucking her knees against her chest. "What the hell?"

Sylar, to his credit, showed a fair amount of modesty himself, cupping himself in his hands to block her view of his genitals.

Claire glared over at him from her position on the ground, wanting to be as far away from him as possible, yet at the same time, wanting to ask him why he'd even tried to save her. He could have died just as easily as she could have. Was it all just a show, trying to convince her father that he was somehow good now? Would her father really be so naive as to believe that? Why hadn't they died in the vortex? And, more importantly, where the hell were their clothes!

A million questions ran through Claire's mind, but she couldn't make any of them escape her mouth. Instead, she sat huddled up to cover her nakedness, listening to the sounds of their bodies becoming fully reassembled and repaired.

Sylar glanced over at her, noticing that she was trying very hard not to look at him. He sat up straighter beside her, trying to figure out something to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, the ground around them began to tremble.

It was slow at first, but rapidly picked up speed.

Claire whipped her head all around her, trying to figure out what was going on.

They seemed to realize at the same moment, for they met each other's gaze and spoke in unison, "Earthquake."

Claire had only ever experienced one other earthquake in her entire life. She had been about 7 years old, and completely terrified. All of those feelings came rushing back, and the fact that she couldn't get hurt didn't seem to matter to her.

The moment the first shriek escaped Claire's lips, Sylar grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet, careless of their uncovered bodies. He was vaguely aware of the slapping her bare feet made on the pavement beneath their feet as he pulled them into an area free of anything that could fall or open up.

Claire's fear of the situation made it almost impossible to run while the Earth itself was moving, and she tripped repeatedly as they ran.

Rather than haul her up and pull her along with him, Sylar simply dropped down on top of her, his body covering hers. It was a purely instinctual action, one he gave little thought before doing so.

Claire's fear of the earthquake blocked her hatred of the man on top of her, and she simply squeezed her eyes shut, clinging desperately to his sides and pulling him down more heavily on top of her.

A couple minutes later the quakes slowed, until finally the Earth was still once more.

Sylar was more than happy to stay where he was, but he knew that once Claire regained her senses, she would just shove him off. So, he beat her to it.

Claire took several deep, steadying breaths, opening her eyes to glare at the twinkling stars overhead. Had they really been in that vortex so long that night had fallen? She hadn't noticed before. She quickly covered herself once more, sitting up slowly. Claire forced herself to look sideways at Sylar, who seemed to be wiping a phantom piece of dirt off of his leg, keeping his manhood covered with a cleverly shifted leg.

"What the hell is going on here?" Claire asked finally.

Sylar shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. I didn't expect we would come out anywhere once we got sucked into Canfield's vortex ... let alone here. This looks like Earth ... hell, this even still looks like California."

"Where the hell are our clothes?"

Sylar shrugged. "No clue. Maybe the vortex swallowed them up."

Claire listened to his unsatisfying answer, his voice steadily bringing her back to that day, not too long ago, when he'd invaded her home and stolen her ability. She backed away from him on the grass, working hard to keep her body covered. "What the hell were you doing with my father? Were you trying to trick him? Get him to trust you, so he could lead you to more people with abilities?"

Sylar sighed, picking himself up off the ground. "It's not like that, Claire. I'm trying to ... rehabilitate."

Claire snorted, crossing her arms over her chest and looking pointedly away from his hips. "Tell me my father didn't actually believe that?"

Sylar looked down at the ground for a moment, before he worked out what he wanted to say and met her eyes again. "Claire, I'm sorry. You hate me, I understand. When I touched your hand, I could feel the pain that I caused you, and I never meant for you to be another one of my victims ... not like that. I'm sorry that I hurt you, Claire. Even more, I'm sorry that I took away your ability to feel pain. If I had known ..." He trailed off, unable to finish.

"What? You would have what? Left me be? Gone after some other unsuspecting girl and cut off her head? Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it. It's just lies, anyway," Claire retorted viciously.

Sylar sighed, nodding his head. "Okay ... fine." He glanced around him, taking in their surroundings. "Look, if we made it through the vortex, there might be a way for us to get back. Maybe it just sent us to another location in the country. I say we figure out where we are, and how to get back to Costa Verde," Sylar suggested. "Then you can get back to your life, and be rid of me."

Claire jutted out her chin defiantly. "I'd say that's the smartest thing that's ever come out of your mouth."

Sylar smirked back at her, but looked away after she wouldn't stop glaring at him.

...

They made their way through the town, looking for some clue as to where they were. Claire had refused to walk around naked - especially with _him_ - so she'd waited, curled up on the grass, for him to find something to cover their bodies with. It was a little bit chilly, despite the fact that it was California. Once Sylar had returned with a couple outfits he'd snatched from a display window, they moved out of the park and began exploring. They noticed the town was named Sunnydale, but it wasn't ringing a bell for either one of them. They kept going, finding an area map of the town itself, but still nothing pointing to their location in the world.

Claire was growing more and more frustrated, when they came upon a newspaper stand. She figured she might be able to get some information from it, but realized after a moment that she didn't have any quarters to put in.

Sylar almost rolled his eyes before flicking his fingers, and a second later the stand was unlocked and opened.

Claire glanced at him briefly before reaching in and grasping one of the papers, not saying a word as he returned the stand to its previous state. She poured over the newspaper, not finding anything that was too helpful, until she spotted a headline that inferred they were in California. She had to grin at that, knowing that it would be much longer until she was home. Her hopes were dashed shortly after, however, when her eyes caught sight of the date in the corner of the front page.

"No way," Claire breathed, staring at the paper.

"What?" Sylar asked, leaning over her shoulder.

They stopped under a street lamp, Claire not believing what she was seeing. "No, that's not possible."

Sylar scoured the front page, trying to understand what had caused her such distress, and then his eyes feel upon the date as well. _December 18th, 2000_. Thinking it must be a misprint, Sylar turned and made a beeline for the newspaper stand. He tore it open with his power, sending paper after paper flying his way. They all had the same date written in ink. No misprint.

Claire remained frozen in shock under the streetlamp, staring at the paper. All of her hopes of getting home, of forgetting that this had ever happened ... they were all dashed. They were trapped 8 years in the past, with no foreseeable way of getting home. They were truly, and royally -

Before she could finish her thought, she was suddenly grabbed from behind. "Aren't you a tasty treat," a voice hissed in her ear, before it lunged forward, and she felt something sharp pierce the skin of her neck.

...

_End of chapter one. _

_**This has been edited since the first posting. I realized after writing a later chapter that they shouldn't have been able to come through with their clothes on, so I changed that. Hope you guys liked it. **_

_Well, this is actually proving quite fun to write. I'm excited to write the rest of this. If I didn't have to be up early for class tomorrow, I'd keep writing until morning. _

_Well, what do you guys think so far? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	2. Chapter 2

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Two. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for the great reviews on the last chapter, I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! _

_I'll respond to some reviews here: _

_**Gamebird:**__ Thank you for the thorough review! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Without giving away too much of the story, I was planning on doing some of those things - to some extent - but I don't think I'll be including Angela in this story too much. Other Heroes character will be mentioned by name, but no one else will be coming through the vortex to rescue them. _

_**ravynsprt:**__ Thanks again for inspiring this story! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Thanks for the enthusiastic review!_

_**aclassicistkitten: **__Thank you for the review! In regards to why Sylar would be trying to reform if he doesn't believe he's a Petrelli: I might go into a bit of back-story, where Angela tells him that she believes in him, and wants him to use his powers for good - then "feeds" him Bridget's power to try and establish a bond with him. Sylar's never had people who "believed in him", as opposed to wanted him to be extraordinary, so he latches onto that. But, as Sylar said, rehabilitation doesn't happen overnight. _

_**Everyone else:**__ Thanks for the great reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying this story so far! _

_Alrighty, without a whole heck of ado, here's chapter two. _

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Claire struggled madly, trying to remove her assailant from her neck, but his hold was too strong. She thought about attempting to kick him in the groin from her position in front of him, but before she could even begin to lift her foot, she felt them both flying through the air.

They connected with the wall of the building beside them, some sort of occult store, and as soon as Claire felt her attacker's grip loosen, she was being pulled forward. It was an all too familiar feeling, and she looked up to see Sylar guiding her with his hand. There was an odd look in his eyes, but he wasn't looking at her. As soon as she was on the ground beside him, he began advancing on the man still pressed against the wall.

"What the fu-?" Claire commented, bringing a hand to her neck. It was healing quickly, but her fingers did come away stained red. "Did he just _bite me_?"

Sylar didn't answer her, just continued to advance on the snarling man.

"Release me!" he demanded, trying to force himself off of the wall.

"What are you?" Sylar asked him, in a deadly calm voice, taking in the features of his deformed face.

The man grinned wide, his fangs showing. "I'm a vampire. What the hell are you?"

Sylar narrowed his eyes after a moment. "Bored." With that, he held up one finger, dragging it across as a line appeared on the supposed vampire's neck. Seconds later, his head was severed from his body.

The vampire's shocked face was the last thing either of them saw, before he exploded into dust.

Claire's eyes widened in surprise. "What the hell?" she repeated.

"Fascinating," Sylar commented, staring at the dust-covered ground.

Claire glanced between him and the dust. "Yeah ... real intriguing. Can we leave, now?"

Sylar turned around, straightening out his tie as he went. "And what do you propose we do, Claire? Are you a time-traveler? Do you have the ability to re-open the exact same vortex that we went through, to send us back to the exact same time _and_ place that we came from? Forgive me, but I wasn't aware that any of these were your abilities."

Claire glared heavily at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "So, what do you suggest, then? We just stand around in the middle of the street, waiting for more ... _vampires_ to come and attack us?"

Sylar shrugged. "Well, that _does_ sound enticing."

They glared at each other for a moment, until Claire finally backed down. "Fine, whatever. Do you have a plan or not?"

Sylar sighed. "We need to find somewhere to lay low until morning. Then we need to figure out some way to get back to our time."

Claire agreed with him, even though it didn't sound like a real tangible plan, and she followed him as they walked down the street. After a while, they managed to find a motel with a vacancy sign.

Knowing that neither one of them had any cash on them, Sylar found them an empty room and used his abilities to break into it silently, locking the door behind them.

Claire stood awkwardly in the small room, grateful for the fact that there were two beds, but not sure that she'd actually be able to fall asleep. Not with Sylar in the room with her.

He didn't seem to have the same qualms as she did, as he began to undress almost immediately. His stolen shirt was removed and placed on the nearest chair, and then he moved on to the buttons on his pants.

Claire turned around, making a beeline for the bathroom. She definitely didn't want to see _that_ again. The blush in her cheeks ... that was just from the intense excitement of the situation they were in. She closed the bathroom door, pressing herself against the wood. Claire briefly entertained the notion of running. The bathroom window certainly looked highly appealing. But, the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she probably wouldn't get out of this situation without Sylar's help. While she couldn't die, she certainly didn't want to wind up being some undead creature's permanent snack food, either.

She sighed, noticing a couple of bathrobes hanging on the hook by the far wall. Grateful that she wouldn't have to sleep in these borrowed clothes, she stripped down and secured the robe around her. Claire splashed some water on her face before she left the bathroom, wishing that she had other toiletries ... she hated going to bed without brushing her teeth.

To say that she was shocked to see Sylar walking around - clad only in a pair of dark underwear - would be a severe understatement. _Of course he got underwear for himself, and not for me ..._ Claire swiftly made her way to her bed, looking anywhere but at him. "There's bathrobes in the bathroom," she told him as she slid under her covers, pulling them all the way up to her chest.

She didn't see Sylar's smirk as he sprawled carelessly across his own bed, leaving the covers strewn haphazardly over his form. "I'm good like this."

Claire blinked several times, reaching behind her to shut off her lamp.

Sylar beat her to it, shutting off all the lights in the room with a flick of his wrist.

Claire shifted uncomfortably in her bed, knowing she wouldn't likely get much sleep that night.

...

Claire stretched her body underneath the warmth of the covers. She didn't know when she'd succumbed to sleep, but she'd managed to get a pretty decent rest. She remember listening to the steady sounds of Sylar's breathing, if only to ensure himself that he was still in his own bed, and not hovering above her menacingly. Claire figured that the rhythmic sounds of his breathing must have put her to sleep.

She was struck by the oddity of that - that anything Sylar did could be considered peaceful. Claire sighed, attributing her odd thoughts to the excessively odd situation they'd found themselves in. She'd hoped that when she woke up, she would find it was all just a crazy dream ... but no such luck.

Claire blinked her eyes open at last, staring up at the ceiling. She was repulsed at the sight of it ... clearly the motel didn't set very high standards for cleanliness. Someone had sprayed a grotesque-looking brown substance all over the roof, and it had yet to be cleaned up. It was the thought of the poor housekeeping staff that had her jumping out of the bed, worried at what sort of bugs might be crawling around in it.

"Eew!" she groaned, tugging at the collar of her robe and wishing desperately that she had underwear. She looked around her, expecting Sylar to be sitting there and having a good chuckle at her, but he was nowhere in sight. "Sylar?" she called out, thinking he was in the bathroom. A quick check proved that he wasn't. Claire moved to sit hesitantly on the corner of a chair, wondering where he'd gone to. Did he leave her there? Had he figured out a way home while she was sleeping, and decide not to take her with him? Did someone abduct him while they slept?

All of her questions were answered by the door of the motel opening, and the man in question walking through, carrying several bags, with a half-eaten muffin stuck in his mouth.

Claire stood from the chair regarding him in confusion.

After he took the muffin out of his mouth and swallowed, Sylar addressed Claire. "Did you know that you snore?"

Claire blinked, continuing to stare at him?

"Not that it's a bad thing," Sylar continued, dropping the bags onto his bed. "It was actually kind of cu-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Claire interrupted, snapping out of her daze. "Where were you?"

Poking through the bags, Sylar sent a few of them over to her bed. "Shopping."

Claire had to wonder if her eyelids were caught in a loop. She couldn't seem to stop staring at him and blinking. "Shopping? You ... shop?"

Sylar smirked at her. "What can I say? Serial Killers R US just doesn't deliver anymore."

Claire glared at him, though the corner of her mouth seemed to be disagreeing with her eyes. She hid the traitorous smirk by pouring through the items in the bags. "You bought me clothes?" she asked in surprise.

"Well, we don't know how long we'll be here," Sylar replied. "People might get suspicious if they see us wearing the same thing every day. Plus, we'll start to smell."

Claire agreed with him on that front, until she saw what else was in the bags. "You're sick," she informed him, pulling out a negligee that had been tucked into the bottom of the bag.

Sylar grinned as she held it up between two fingers, as though it were going to bite her at any second. "What? You don't like the color?"

Claire's glare only worsened, and she deliberately tossed the offending garment into the garbage can.

"What? A man can't dream?" he asked her, clearly trying to goad her into an argument. What could he say, he liked 'em feisty.

Claire clenched her jaw shut, remembering what she'd said to her birth mother so few days ago. She wanted to hurt Sylar ... make him feel the pain that he'd caused her. Joking back and forth in a motel room about sexy nightwear was definitely not repaying the pain he was due. She grabbed the bags off of the bed and moved into the bathroom, not replying to his last comment.

Sylar sighed, watching her retreating back until the door closed. "It's a good thing there's no awkwardness between us, or anything. 'Cause that would really make this situation intolerable," he told the closed door, knowing that Claire had heard him.

The only reply he got was the sound of the shower turning on.

Sylar set out the clothes he was going to be wearing that day, as well as fishing out some of the cash he'd gotten from the jeweler, and placing it with Claire's stuff. The alchemy ability he'd recently acquired was definitely becoming one of his favorites. He only wished he'd managed to complete the set with Elle's power, along with her father's.

Sylar sighed, reminding himself that he wasn't supposed to be thinking such things. He was trying to reform, he was trying to be one of the good guys. Fantasizing about murdering the woman who'd made him into the monster he was ... definitely not helping matters.

While waiting for Claire to be done with the shower, he decided that the first stop they'd have to make that day was to the occult store. There might be information about how to recreate the vortex they'd traveled through. The sooner he got them home, the sooner he'd be able to show Claire that he really was trying to be good ... no matter how hard it was.

...

_End of chapter two. _

_I'll try to make the chapters longer from now on, I know that the shortness is kind of annoying. _

_One of the Scoobies will be making an appearance in the next chapter ... possibly two. We'll see how it goes. _

_What did you guys think of this one? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	3. Chapter 3

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Three _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for the great reviews so far, I'm glad you guys are still enjoying the story!_

_I hope you guys like this one, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Not all of the clothes that Sylar had bought were as bad as the ridiculous negligee. There were a few good pairs of jeans - she didn't want to know how he'd known her size - and some t-shirts that she didn't entirely hate. He himself was dressed in a simple pair of black pants and a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt. It was both ominous and casual, something that unnerved Claire.

Before yesterday, she couldn't have fathomed a situation where she would be walking down the street, next to Sylar, and he wasn't trying to cut her head off. True, he'd already gotten her power, and he might have said that she could never die ... but she still had trouble not seeing him as the menacing psycho-killer who had murdered her friend and violated the sanctity of her home - not to mention taken away her innocence. She wished that she could go back to being that carefree cheerleader ... but she just couldn't.

Sylar had apparently paid for their room while she was sleeping, so they didn't have to worry about it being rented out to someone else - or, heaven forbid, housekeeping coming in to clean the room. Claire was considering making Sylar change beds with her, so that she didn't have to sleep under the weird, gross stain.

A few people glanced at them as they walked down the street, obviously not recognizing them as locals, but they made it to the Occult store without incident.

The first thing that struck Claire about the small shop was the smell. Various herbs filled her senses, and she was both comforted and disconcerted by it. She'd never really been in this kind of store before, so she didn't really know where to start.

Sylar headed towards the books in the back, so she figured that was as good a place as any to start.

She made a point at starting at the opposite side of the large bookshelf from him, thought she couldn't really make sense of half the titles. There wasn't a whole lot that shouted "vortex!". She grabbed a few that seemed to deal with time travel and/or teleportation, but she didn't get a really satisfied feeling from any of them.

She looked over at Sylar, expecting him to be fairing about as less-than-spectacularly as she was, but was surprised that he had about twelve books suspended in the air, just above his palm. Anyone who wasn't aware of his power might think he just had incredible balance. She scoffed at him in annoyance, before tossing him the few books that she'd found. A part of her was hoping that he would be too distracted to see them coming, but he just used his telekinesis to slow their progress and slide them each under the pile he already held.

Claire looked around quickly to make sure no one had seen that, and her eyes fell upon a couple of girls looking at a bunch of crystals on one of the display tables. There weren't that many other people in the store, and none of them seemed to have seen Sylar's display of abilities.

Leaving Sylar to continue with the books - as he obviously understood more of it than she did - Claire started browsing through the rest of the store, wondering if perhaps there were some sort of potion they could take to get back to their time.

The large wad of cash in her pocket felt so foreign to her; she was surprised that Sylar had thought to give her any of the money he'd suddenly come up with. She'd asked him how he managed to have so much money today, when yesterday they had none. His response was to transform the buckle on the belt she'd picked out to solid gold. Alchemy, he'd called it. A new ability he'd picked up. Claire had clenched her jaw when he'd told her that - and did so again now that she was thinking about it again - knowing that he'd "picked up" that ability by murdering someone.

As she walked by the tables with the crystals on them, Claire heard the two girls speaking in slightly hushed tones. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the store was fairly quiet.

"Thanks for showing me this place, Tara," the red-headed girl spoke, smiling brightly at the one apparently called "Tara".

The other girl replied, "I'm surprised y-you haven't b-been in here before. You're so powerful, I'd just assumed you'd b-been studying the craft for a l-lot longer."

That perked Claire's interest, and she stopped behind a shelf full of jar-encased items to listen.

"No, it hasn't really been that long. Barely over a couple years," the red-headed girl replied. "And don't sell yourself short. With our combined powers, we're a pretty hefty force to be reckoned with."

Claire glanced over a jar that was filled with some sort of reptilian scales, to see the blonde grin shyly at the redhead. "We can ... we can l-look at some of my spell books when w-we get back t-to the dorm, if you w-want?"

The redhead nodded her head. "I'd love that." She took one more look at the crystals they were gazing at, and finally settled on a light, almost transparent, violet one.

"Amethyst," the blonde girl commented. She seemed to be more at ease talking directly to the crystal. "Said to have great healing powers, and protect you from psychic attacks." She smiled softly. "If you put it under your pillow, it's supposed to protect you from nightmares."

"Then it's perfect."

Claire saw her eyes darken briefly, but then her face settled into a smile once more. The two girls began to leave, so Claire quickly stepped out from behind the shelf, bumping into the redhead. "Oh! I'm sorry!" she spoke, her voice loud enough to alert Sylar. She saw him glance at over his shoulder, and she tried her best to give him a knowing look, but not one that said "come kill these two".

"Don't worry about it," the redhead told her, steadying herself.

The girl beside her shifted nervously, but didn't say anything.

"I didn't mean to almost run you over like that," Claire continued, wanting to find out more about these two, and whatever power they had. If it was something that could get her back to her time, she knew she had to find out who they were. "I guess I'm just not quite used to this town yet. Moving gets me kind of frazzled."

The redhead nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it definitely has its quirks."

Claire smiled as brightly as she could manage, holding out her hand for the girl. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude. I'm Claire," she introduced herself.

The other girl moved her crystal to the other hand, meeting Claire's outstretched hand. "I'm Willow, and this is my friend, Tara."

Claire smiled pleasantly at the clearly shy blonde girl. "It's nice to meet you." She could see Sylar moving their way, so she hastily stepped out of their way. "Well, I'd better let you get going. I'm sure I'll see you around sometime."

"Oh, do you go to UC Sunnydale?" Willow asked her.

Claire nodded after a brief second. "Yeah, I just transferred from my old school in Odessa. I moved out here with, uh ... a friend," Claire replied, hoping her answer didn't sound too fake.

Willow nodded her head. "Well, UC Sunnydale is pretty great. Walsh's Intro to Psych is one of my favorite classes."

Claire smiled again. "Really? Well, I might have to check it out."

Willow tilted her head. "Well, I'm not sure if she's accepting new students. It's a pretty full class, and she can be pretty strict for punctuality."

Claire nodded her head, thinking about the wad of cash in her pocket, and what other things she could accomplish with Sylar's stolen alchemy ability. "Well, I'm still waiting to confirm some of my classes, so I guess I'll just have to wait and see."

Willow nodded, then seemed to notice Tara's uneasiness. "Well, we'd better get going. It was nice to meet you, Claire."

"Yeah, you too," she replied, and then watched them head to the counter to pay for the crystal.

Sylar sidled up beside Claire, staring heavily at the two departing girls. "What was that about?" she asked her.

"They have power," she replied without thinking. "I heard them talking."

Sylar took an unconscious step forward, and Claire looked up to see a familiar, dark look in his eyes.

She quickly stood in his path, pulling his attention away from the girls. "Hey, don't even think about it!" she spoke in a quick, quiet voice. "We need them _alive_."

Sylar nodded after a moment, and his body seemed to relax slightly with effort.

It was then that Claire noticed the massive amount of books that he carried. Glancing swiftly around her, she eased some of the books out of the pile, not wanting to call attention to high stack, which apparently defied unbalance. "Could you try being a little less suspicious?" she asked him.

He responded by shifting the pile into two slightly smaller ones, and letting them settle down more fully onto his hands. She was sure that he was still using his telekinesis to keep them balanced. "So ... the girls?"

Claire explained the conversation that she'd had with them, and then told him that she needed him to procure her a phony ID and transcripts so that she could get into UC Sunnydale.

When she said the last bit, he looked at her like she was relatively insane.

Claire stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, facing him while she shuffled awkwardly with the bags she carried. "Look, I really hope that we find the answer to getting home in one of these books. But I'm not gonna put all my eggs in one basket. Those girls have some kind of power, maybe the kind of power that can get us home. I'll do whatever it takes to get close to them and figure it out."

Sylar pursed his lips. "You know, there's an easier way -"

"You're not going to steal their power, Sylar," she told him. "End of story."

He nodded his head after a moment, battling the hunger that swelled up inside of him. There was definitely something different about those girls ... he just couldn't quite put his finger on it ... and he shouldn't.

Sylar told her that he would look into getting them fake IDs, and arranging for fake transcripts for her to enroll at UC Sunnydale. He understood that he would probably need to throw some money at them to get her late admission and access to whatever courses she wanted, so he also picked out some fair-sized junk objects at a garage sale to turn into gold.

...

Claire was going stir-crazy. She'd been cooped up in the motel all day, pouring over the books that they'd gotten at the occult shop. Her eyes were starting to go cross-eyed, and she still hadn't managed to find anything useful. Interesting, yes ... useful, no. While she was mildly fascinated by the mythology and supposition that many of the books held within their bindings, she also knew that getting carried away with the possibilities of a Wiccan lifestyle wouldn't lead her anywhere productive ... not at the moment, at least.

She'd taken a shower to try and wake herself, but the water had a faint odor to it, and she found herself wanting to be anywhere but the tiny, cramped, motel room that she was currently residing in.

So, she'd grabbed her jacket, and went to buy some ice cream. There were a few vendors that were still open in the evening, and the cool breeze helped to wake her body up.

While her body didn't get stiff or sore from sitting on an uncomfortable bed all day, she was still antsy from the lack of movement.

She found herself wandering around the mostly empty streets of the town, thinking about what her father might be doing at this very moment. It had been almost 24 hours since she and Sylar had disappeared into the vortex. Was it still twenty-four hours for him? Did he think that she was dead? Had he told her mother and brother that she had died? Or would he just wipe their memories of Claire, to save them from that pain? Claire honestly didn't know what he would do. She wanted to assume the best of her father, but she also knew how prone he was to keeping secrets, and his working with Sylar didn't exactly boost her opinion of him.

Sylar ... the last 24 hours with Sylar had definitely been strange. He seemed to bounce back and forth between multiple personalities. The apologetic, repentant Sylar - the flirtatious, dangerous Sylar - and the power-hungry, homicidal Sylar. While he'd only had two instances of the latter so far - the vampire and the girls from the occult shop - Claire couldn't be certain that he wasn't killing someone at that very moment, while he was away from her. She was definitely uneasy about letting him go off alone to buy themselves identities, but she was more uneasy about travelling alone with him, which was why she'd opted to stay at the motel in the first place.

The flirtatious-dangerous Sylar? She wanted to smack him. That stupid little negligee - which he'd removed from the trash bin and hung in the bathroom - made her want to gouge his eyes out. She had contemplated it more than a couple times before he'd headed off to wherever he was going.

The apologetic-repentant Sylar ... him, she wasn't ready to deal with. She was still filled with so much anger from her attack; from what he'd done to her. Every time she thought about it, she was reminded of her words to Meredith. Now that she was alone with him, it was only reasonable that she try to somehow get her revenge on him, but she didn't even know where to begin. Especially when Sylar looked at her with those sorrowful eyes, as though he truly did wish to take away the pain he'd caused her - or, at the very least, give her back her ability to feel pain.

No ... Claire was confused. She was frustrated, and stressed, and her ice cream had mostly melted before she could finish it, so lost was she in her thoughts. She'd ended up at a playground, and was absentmindedly rocking back and forth slowly on a wooden swing, when a thick, drawl of a voice sounded from behind her.

"Well, I don't believe I've seen you in these parts before. What's a pretty little thing like you doing out by your lonesome?" the voice asked her, and Claire turned to see a man standing behind her. A man wearing a leather jacket, with bleached-blond hair.

...

_End of chapter three. _

_Well, what did you guys think? I wanted to add more dialogue between Sylar and Claire, but I don't want to progress their relationship too quickly, and I also wanted to use this chapter to start introducing more characters. _

_Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	4. Chapter 4

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Four. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for the great reviews, I'm glad you guys are still liking this story! _

_I'll respond to some reviews here: _

_**kodo-chan:**__ Thanks for the review! In response to why Claire would be going out after being attacked by a vampire ... she can't be hurt, and she knows that. When the vampire attacked her, she was more annoyed than afraid. I won't be writing her as afraid of the vampires, since she knows that they can't hurt her. _

_**Gamebird:**__ Thanks for the review! Claire doesn't necessarily see them as witches or spell-casters, but she does believe that they have power, and wants to find out what kind of power it is. She's willing to grasp at anything at this point, if it might help her to get home. In regards to how you feel Sylar would act around the vampires ... without giving too much away, I'll just say that he's not going to be confused by them, or doubt his powers. He's intrigued by them, but he won't 'want' their powers for himself, 'cause he doesn't see them as very useful. I'm glad you're still enjoying the story! _

_**ravynsprt:**__ Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're still liking this story! I haven't decided if Sylar will try another method to kill vampires ... it might be interesting to see him sort of experiment with his powers where they are concerned. _

_**aclassicistkitten:**__ Thanks for the review! And for pointing out the hair thing. I went back and watched "Hush", and you're right, Tara's hair is more blonde than brown in this season, so I'll have to go back and change that in the last chapter. Nice catch! I'm glad you're still enjoying the story. _

_**Everyone else:**__ Thanks for the reviews, and for favoriting/alerting this story. I'm happy that you're still liking it! _

_Alright, that's enough out of me, let's get on with it! _

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Claire stood from her seat on the swing, turning fully around to stare at the man behind her. She tilted her head slightly, trying to figure him out. "I'm sure I can take care of myself," she told him.

Spike grinned, stepping around the swing and taking her in. He'd ditched the basement dweller and his sex fiend, and was enjoying the night life. When he'd seen her sitting on the swing, his first instinct had been to plunge right in. If the stupid chip in his brain didn't prevent him from actually having fun with the little chit, he'd have done more than just say hello. Even though most of the people in this town had no idea of the things that went bump in the night, there was still an unwritten rule about wandering around at night - by yourself. Thus, she must be new in town.

"With no one around to protect you from the things that go bump in the night?" Spike taunted, stepping closer to her. Maybe he couldn't hurt her without feeling a severe amount of pain himself, but he could at least freak her out. Small pleasures ... these days, anyway.

Claire stood her ground, though her nostrils flared and her posture stiffened. There was something off about this guy. "Listen, creepo, you can take your little scare-fest on the road. I'm not interested." She turned her back on him, prepared to run if need be, but as she turned around, something else blocked her way.

Claire's eyes widened, looking up at the sight before her. She'd never seen anything like it. It was pale, bald, and grotesque-looking. Its face was deformed - somewhat like the man from the other night - but worse. Claire barely had time to draw in a breath before the thing descended upon her, fangs latching onto her neck.

It fed briefly, before pulling away to snap her neck.

Spike blinked a couple times, watching the scene before him in shock. He'd heard stories, but he never thought he'd actually _see_ one. The other vampire tilted its blood-covered face at Spike for a moment, before carrying on, running towards a thicket of trees.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day," Spike commented, looking down at the dead girl sprawled on the ground. He was about to leave when he saw the strangest thing ... the neck - the one he'd seen get broken - twisted, and put itself back into place. Next, he heard a groan, and all of a sudden, the girl was pulling herself up.

"Fricken vampires," she grumbled, seeing her brand new shirt now ruined with blood. She would have continued her rant, but she saw that the other man was still standing there, and staring at her with a confused expression on his face. "What, it didn't eat you?"

Spike moved forward, reaching out to grab her arms. "What are you?" he asked her, staring heavily into her face.

Before Claire could answer, another girl shouted at them. "Spike! Back off!"

He turned his head, Claire poking her own over his shoulder to see who else had appeared.

"So much for not being able to hurt people anymore," the girl commented, a wooden stake in her hand. "Step away from the girl." To Claire, she said, "It's gonna be okay."

Spike took his hands off Claire's shoulders, holding them up in defense. "Hey, easy there, Slayer. I didn't do this."

Buffy scoffed. "Yeah, right. I don't know how you managed to work around that chip, Spike, but you've had your last drink." She held up the stake for emphasis, and Claire decided now would be a good time to stick her nose in.

"Um, not to get in the middle here, but ... he's not the one who attacked me," she pointed out.

Spike smiled triumphantly. "See?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes at Claire. "Then who did?"

Claire shrugged, eyeing the stake in Buffy's hand. Could stakes even kill vampires? She didn't know. "Some really weird-looking thing. It ran away."

Buffy looked between Claire and Spike.

Spike nodded in agreement. "It was an older vampire, Buffy. Like your old friend The Master, only much older."

Buffy felt an involuntary shudder of fear at that revelation, and her mind immediately jumped to the earthquake that had hit Sunnydale the other night. She turned her attention to Claire. "And he just left you alive?"

Claire wasn't sure how to respond to that, as her abilities weren't exactly supposed to be public knowledge, but for some reason, the one called Spike spoke for her.

"I scared him off," Spike lied. "Figured if I can't enjoy a tasty treat, why should anyone else?"

Claire furrowed her brow at his words, as well as the fact that he was lying to cover for her.

Buffy didn't look as though she entirely believed him, but as Claire didn't contradict his story, the other blonde girl let it go. "Do you need help getting to a hospital?" Buffy asked her.

Claire shook her head. "No, I'll be fine. Really, it's just a scratch."

Buffy shook her head. "I doubt that, I've seen what these things can do. Why don't you let me have a look at it?"

Claire brought a hand up to her neck, hiding the fact that there was no longer a bite mark there. "Really, I'm fine." Her cell phone - which Sylar had also purchased that morning - began buzzing in her pocket. For once, she was actually grateful for Sylar's interference. She pulled it out and answered it quickly, being sure to keep her neck hidden from the blonde girl with the stake.

"Hi," she spoke shortly.

"Where are you?" Sylar asked her, and Claire thought she might have heard a trace of worry in his voice.

"I went for a walk, had to get out of the room for a bit," Claire replied, not wanting to say too much for the others to overhear. "Actually, could you come pick me up? I'm over at that park a few blocks from the ice cream vendor." She wasn't sure he would know where that was, and she wasn't familiar with the street names.

He assured her that he'd find her, and then hung up the phone.

Claire pocketed the cell phone, putting it back in her pocket. "I have a ... friend coming to pick me up. I'll be fine, really."

Buffy nodded her head, torn between forcing Spike back to Xander's basement, and keeping an eye on the girl to make sure no other trouble found her. The latter won out, and Buffy told her that she'd wait with her.

Claire was bit uneasy about that, but she took the opportunity to ask a question that had been on her mind for the last day at least. "So ... vampires?"

Buffy glanced at Spike briefly before nodding. "Yeah ... the town's kinda full of them. You new here?"

Claire nodded after a moment. "Fairly."

"Well, hopefully the nightlife hasn't turned you off of Sunnydale," Buffy replied.

Claire shrugged. "Not sure how long I'll be staying, anyway." She remembered that Sylar was supposed to have gotten her fake ID and transcripts. "I might be getting a place closer to the campus," she added. Anything to get out of the motel room they currently resided in.

"Oh, you go to UC Sunnydale?" Buffy asked her.

Claire looked over at her, shifting her feet slightly. "Yeah, I'm just waiting to hear back about some of my courses." She really hoped Sylar had gotten the transcripts.

"Oh, a college girl, are you?" Spike spoke up, stepping closer. He wanted to find out more about the girl, and how her neck had managed to get unbroken.

Buffy glared at him, the stake in her hand twitching.

"Easy there, Slayer. Just making conversation," Spike replied.

"Slayer?" Claire wondered, having heard Spike call her that twice now.

"It's a long story," Buffy told her, looking from Spike to her. "I'm Buffy."

"Claire," Claire greeted, holding out her free hand for the other girl to shake.

Just then, a car came peeling around the corner, stopping in front of the sidewalk by the park. Sylar stepped out of the car, moving towards them.

Claire's eyes widened, shocked by the sight of the car. He'd definitely gone all-out. Pitch-black in color, looking pristine, even though it appeared to be a classic, old-style Mustang. Design looked to be from the sixties. Before she could comment on the car, Sylar was at her side.

His eyes flickered to the other two before he decided to lay it on thick. "Claire, what happened?" he asked, pulling her into his arms.

It was all Claire could do to not knee him in the groin for touching her like that, but she didn't want to make a scene in front of the other two. "It's nothing, I'm fine," she mumbled against his shoulder, wanting desperately to pull back. He wasn't holding her too tightly, but it was still uncomfortable ... being _Sylar_ and all.

"You should really get that looked at," Buffy told her.

Claire nodded, pulling away from Sylar without looking like she was repulsed by him. "Right ... we should probably head to the hospital now," she said to Sylar, motioning to the car.

"Of course," he replied, glancing at the other two before opening the door for Claire.

Claire paused at the action, but didn't say anything, simply sliding into the vehicle.

Sylar moved to get back into his seat, when he suddenly stopped, looking at both Buffy and Spike. He was struck with a strange feeling ... different than the one he'd felt with the two girls in the magic store, but the same sort of weird tingling in the tip of his spine. They were different. His fingers twitched involuntarily as he stared at them.

"Something wrong?" Buffy asked him, looking from him to Claire in the car.

"Sylar? ... Hospital?" Claire spoke, wondering if she'd have to get in his way again.

Sylar seemed to snap out of his trance on his own, and looked back towards the car. "Right ... sorry. Um, thank you," he muttered to the two blonde on the grass, before he crossed to the driver's side and got into the car.

Claire lifted her hand in a small wave as they drove away, taking her hand off of her neck once they were finally out of eyesight. "Don't do that again," she told him.

"I didn't _do_ anything," Sylar reminded her. "I didn't touch them."

Claire shook her head. "I wasn't talking about them. You don't get to hug me," she informed him.

Sylar sighed. "You know, you can't hate me forever."

"I can sure try," Claire replied, glaring over at him.

Sylar shrugged in response. "You'll get bored, eventually."

Claire rolled her eyes at him. "Did you get the stuff?"

He handed her an envelope as he drove, his eyes focused on the road. "Congratulations. You are now Claire Butler, high school graduate. The transcripts should get you into any course you want to take, and I've arranged for a donation to be made in the school, as incentive for them to accept your late admission."

Claire blinked in surprise, nodding her head. "Good."

They traveled along the road in silence for a bit, until Claire noticed that they weren't headed towards the motel. "Where are we going?"

"I rented a place near the campus," Sylar explained shortly.

"And you were planning on telling me that, when?" Claire asked him, not mentioning that she was going to suggest that they do just that.

Sylar looked at her momentarily. "I might have, Claire, if you had bothered to speak to me like I was even a little bit human. I don't need to stay with you, I don't need to help you get back," he informed her. "You wanna hate me? That's fine, I deserve it. I can only apologize so many times for what I did to you. But don't for a second think that I'm going to bend over backwards to accommodate you, just to get berated and insulted at every turn, understand? There _are_ limits to my restraint."

Neither one of them said another word as the drive continued.

...

The house he'd rented by the campus was surprisingly small. Considering the car, and the clothes, and everything else that he'd bought in the space of a single day, Claire had expected that he would get the most outrageously expensive house that there was. Instead, he found a simple, three-bedroom house that was a fair distance from the college. It was closer to domestic housing, which was probably why it hadn't been rented out. The rent itself was also steep, which might have had a hand in it still being available so late in the semester.

Claire wanted to ask Sylar where he'd gone for the IDs, where he'd gotten the car ... there were many questions that she wanted to ask him, but she was uneasy to begin a conversation with him after what he'd said in the car.

On the one hand, she wasn't afraid that he would hurt her. He literally couldn't, not anymore. He might hurt someone else, though, because of her, and her conscience wouldn't let that happen.

On the other hand, he may have had a small point. They were both stuck in their current predicament, and her being snippy and spiteful wouldn't help matters much.

On the other, _other_ hand - because apparently she had three - she had every right to be pissed at him, and he couldn't expect her to act as though everything was ... peachy.

So, they spent the rest of the evening reading their books in relative silence. Claire had a meeting with the Dean of the college in two days, and with any luck, she would start classes when they began again in January. Though, she really hoped they wouldn't be stuck for that long. She'd only been trapped in the past for a day, and already she was homesick. Severely. None of this would have happened if she hadn't gone after Canfield like she did. Though, if she hadn't gone after him, then her father would have gotten a hold of him, and he would be back in level 5.

Claire figured that as long as she got home okay, she couldn't blame Canfield for just trying to save himself, so that he could get back to his family. She hoped that he at least had them.

Claire stretched out onto her stomach on her temporary bed, flipping through the pages of the large book in front of her. She was currently reading a book that centered around aspects of time travel, but it mostly talked about powerful Witches and Warlocks who had supposedly traveled backwards in time, and ended up changing major events in history. The book postulated that certain historical events - the good ones at least - happened because of Wiccan interference.

Claire sighed, dog-earing her page and moving onto another book. Her eyes were starting to go cross-eyed again, so she decided to take break from reading and grab a drink from the kitchen.

A part of her had to wonder if Sylar had someone managed to manipulate time as well, because he seemed to have gotten so much done in such a small amount of time. Fake identities, a car, a house, more money than they could spend, and a meeting with the Dean of UC Sunnydale. They were well on their way to creating a foundation for Claire to work with, to get close to the two girls with power - whatever their power might be. They seemed to think that they were stronger together, so Claire would have to find a way to get close to both of them.

As she walked down the stairs, she thought about the store they'd been in, and the blonde girl's knowledge of certain magical items. Perhaps that was her connection. Claire made a mental note to learn whatever she could about a bunch of magical stuff, and see if she could find an 'in' there.

She made her way into the kitchen, surprised to see Sylar sitting cross-legged on the island in the middle of the room. Claire opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water out of the door. "What are you doing?" she asked him, realizing that it was the first sentence she'd spoken to him since their ride in the car, a few hours ago. When she received no response, she took a few steps closer to him, and realized that his eyes were closed. "Sylar?" she spoke, a little bit louder. Still no response. Annoyed, thinking that he might be ignoring her, Claire moved to shake his shoulder. "Hello, I'm talking to -"

The next thing Claire knew, she was flat on her back on the ground, and Sylar was staring at her with a look in his eyes that Claire could only describe with one word: feral.

...

_End of chapter four. _

_I know, the Buffy/Spike stuff was a bit quick, but I didn't want to go too far with their characters in this chapter. I'm kind of thinking this story will be one of my longer ones, so I'm trying to space it out a bit. _

_What did you guys think of this one? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	5. Chapter 5

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Five. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews, I'm glad you guys are still enjoying this story!_

_I'll respond to some reviews here: _

_**Gamebird:**__ Thanks for the review - and the funny intro! In regards to the cell phones, I'm not sure I understand what you mean by the programming wouldn't work ... they aren't using the cell phones they might have had when they came through the vortex, Sylar bought cell phones for them that morning. Surely they wouldn't be as advanced of cell phones as we have now, but there were cell phones in Sunnydale in 2000 ... I'm not sure if that's what you were getting at, but hopefully that clears things up. Thanks again for the review!_

_**johncorn:**__ Thanks for the review. I thought about writing Claire more confused/perturbed by the vampires, but in the end, I decided that with everything that they've seen in their own world, bloodsuckers probably wouldn't freak her out that much, especially now that she can't feel pain. _

_**Everyone else:**__ Thanks for the awesome reviews, I'm so happy you're still liking this story!_

_Alrighty, let's get on with it, shall we? _

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

"Sylar?" Claire spoke in a whispered voice, ashamed at herself for being afraid. She'd never seen him with such an animalistic look. Maybe he couldn't physically hurt her, but he could do other things to her. Claire's eyes filled with panic at the feeling of him looming over top of her, pressing her down onto the cold floor of the kitchen.

"Not this time," he growled at her in a cold voice, not really looking at her. "You're not getting inside my head."

"Sylar, what -"

He cut her off with a hand around her throat. "Shut up! Stay out of my head! You think I don't know? You think I don't see? I know what you're doing to me. Trying to turn me into a weapon? I won't let you use me!" he hissed in her ear.

Claire shook, not understanding what he meant. He wasn't looking directly at her ... did he even recognize her? This was so different than the Sylar she'd dealt with for the last 24-plus hours. What happened? What made him snap?

"Sylar, what's going on?" she asked him, and felt the hand around her throat tighten. "Sylar!" she choked out, knowing that even though he couldn't hurt her, he was trying to. Would he just keep killing her every time she regenerated? Claire freed one of her hands, slapping him across the face. It seemed to have no effect on him, so she balled her fist and punched him as hard as she could.

His grip loosened and his face was turned from the force of her punch. He was silent, though, and breathing heavily.

Claire opened her mouth to speak, not really sure what she was going to say, when Sylar suddenly turned his head back to look down at her.

"Claire?" he spoke in a soft voice.

They were both silent for a moment, and Claire wondered if he'd even been aware of what was happening. "Get off me," she told him finally, to which he immediately complied.

Claire slid backwards on the floor until she reached the cupboards behind her. Carefully, and keeping her eyes on him at all times, she brought herself to her feet, her hands gripping the countertop on both sides of her. "What was that?" she asked him, rubbing her throat, even though she was sure there was no mark there.

"I'm sorry," Sylar told her, looking away and avoiding the question.

Claire shook her head. "That doesn't answer my question. Who was trying to 'get inside your head'?" she wanted to know.

"It doesn't matter," Sylar told her shortly, and left the kitchen.

Claire stared at his back until he was gone, her gaze lingering on the empty doorway. She remained in the kitchen for a few minutes, trying to work out what had just happened. She glanced at the floor, seeing that the water bottle she'd gotten out of the fridge had fallen onto the floor. With the lid off, it had spilled out, making a large puddle on the kitchen floor. Trying to steady her nerves, she set about cleaning up the water. A minute later, she heard the front door open and close, and new that Sylar had left. She tried not to wonder if he would return or not.

...

The headline on the newspaper the next day was not a comforting one. Several bodies had been discovered last night, and the stories had been rushed to print. The victims were apparently mutilated, their necks torn up ... some even with their heads removed.

Claire's first thought immediately went to Sylar, who had been gone for several hours after she left. Had she not herself been a victim of a similar attack that night, she might have continued her assumption that Sylar was the predator. Instead, she knew that it was probably that thing ... vampire ... that had attacked her at the playground.

Claire thought about trying to convince Sylar to do something about the attacks. She knew that it was risky to mix around with history, but she also couldn't see herself standing around and doing nothing, when she knew that Sylar could put a stop to the killings. He'd proved it when he'd severed the first vampire's head from its body.

Claire was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, reading the newspaper, when Sylar made his way into the kitchen. He paused briefly when he saw her, but continued to the already made pot of coffee.

"So, last night? Care to explain?" Claire tried again, wanting answers.

Sylar sighed, lifting the coffee to his lips. It burned him slightly, but it was easier to focus on that than Claire's question.

"Sylar?"

He shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry I freaked you out, okay? But, I'm not really _in the mood_ to talk about it," he answered.

Claire stared at him, wanting to argue, but saw the futility. She opened her mouth again, and watched Sylar's body stiffen in response. "Can I borrow the car?" she asked him finally.

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

"There's some stuff I'd liked to pick up. And since you don't seem to be in the sharing _mood_, I think I'd rather go alone," she told him. "So, can I use the car, or not?"

Sylar stared at her for a moment, but then pulled the keys out of his pocket, tossing them to her.

Claire caught them easily, finishing the rest of her coffee. She put the mug in the seat, picked the paper off the table, and pressed it into Sylar's hand as she walked by him. "You might find something interesting in there," she commented, before leaving the kitchen and heading up the stairs, changing for her excursion back into Sunnydale.

Her first trip was to the local mall. While Sylar had managed to find a few suitable clothing items for her, there were only just a few, so she needed to get some more for herself. Plus, she couldn't bring herself to wear any of the underwear he'd bought for her. The mere idea of him touching said underwear was enough for her entire body to shiver ... but not in a good way, she told herself.

She didn't know if she'd be able to buy enough to spend all the money that she had with her. The large wad of bills in her pocket was mostly hundreds, so she allowed herself to splurge, and bought a few outfits from some of the more expensive stores. Next, she headed back to the magic shop that she and Sylar had visited the other day. She wanted to learn more about the whole occult phenomenon, so that she would be prepared for whatever power the two girls apparently had. Also, she wanted to be able to strike up a conversation with them without seeming like too much of an outsider. She bought a couple books from a bunch of different areas, as well as some of the crystals that had been on display. She would look them up later to find out if they all had the same kind of properties that the blonde girl of the pair had been talking about. She could certainly use something to keep her own nightmares at bay.

Claire wasn't ready to go back to the house just yet. She didn't think she could handle anymore shopping, so she instead parked the car outside of a coffee shop called the "Espresso Pump". It was nice, quaint place, and she figured that she would at least find some peace and quiet there.

She slid a couple of the books she'd gotten from the magic shop into a shoulder-bag she'd purchased at the mall, along with a new wallet for some of her money. She'd barely managed to put a dent in the bundle of bills, so she slipped a few into the wallet, and left the rest in her pocket. She ordered a latte from the counter, and then found a small, empty booth to sit at while she read one of the books.

A waitress came over and asked her if she'd like to order anything off the lunch menu, which Claire quickly perused, and decided on a croissant sandwich and a chocolate muffin. She thanked the waitress, and continued her reading.

As opposed to many of the volumes they had back at the house, the book she was currently reading was published within the last decade. It was a somewhat condensed compilation of Witchcraft, and the usage of spells for personal gain. She found it decidedly more intriguing than the large, ancient books she'd been pouring over the previous night, and she was so engrossed in her reading that she didn't notice the person standing next to her table until they cleared their throat.

Claire look up, spotting one of the girls that had been in the bookstore, now standing beside her table. "Hi," Claire greeted, dog-earing her page and setting the book down. "Um ... Willow, right?"

The other girl nodded her head. "Yeah. Claire?"

Claire nodded her head.

"I thought I'd come over and say 'hey', but I guess you were pretty absorbed in your book, there," Willow commented.

Claire glanced at the book, wondering what Willow was thinking. "Yeah ... I admit, I'm a little bit fascinated by the subject."

Willow nodded her head. "I can relate." She wasn't exactly going to tell the somewhat stranger that she was a certified witch, but it was nice to meet other people who were interested in Wicca.

Claire smiled in what she hoped wasn't an overly friendly manner, and motioned to the seat across from her. "Do you want to join me? I have to admit, I don't meet many people who are into this stuff. It's kind of a relief to see there are other "normal" people out there."

Willow chuckled briefly at that. "I can sit for a few minutes. I'm meeting a friend of mine here in a little while, but if you don't mind, I'd love to chat with you about it."

Claire smiled, waving the waitress over to order something for the other girl.

...

Sylar stepped out of the shower, floating a towel over to him with his telekinetic ability, and drying himself off. He was grateful that Claire had gone out for a while. After his performance the previous night, he wouldn't be surprised if she treated him like a leper for the duration of their time together.

He had thought that meditating would be a good way to ease his nerves, to help him deal with the hunger that he was constantly battling ... what he hadn't counted on was his hallucination. When he'd held Claire on the ground, he hadn't been seeing her ... he'd seen Elle. The conniving, sociopathic woman who had turned him into the killer that he was. She'd manipulated him, and when that seemed like it wasn't working, she'd used her own personal brand of electro-shock therapy on him. A part of him had known that he was being groomed ... tested. Back then, he hadn't really cared. The bigger part of him like the thrill, thrived on the killing.

But now? Things were different. He didn't want to be that person, he wanted to be in control of his own life. Angela Petrelli had told him that she had faith in him, that she knew he could succeed where her sons had failed.

Seeing the look of fear in Claire's eyes, he was beginning to wonder if Angela was wrong about him. Maybe he _was_ just a killer.

Sylar was suddenly struck with a phenomenal idea. They were stuck eight years in the past ... so, conceivably, he could find his past self, and stop him from ever doing the things that made him a monster. He could tell him about his ability, about what would happen if he misused it. He could show him how to empathetically take people's powers, without killing them.

Sylar wrapped the towel around his waist, rushing to his bedroom to find the cell phone he'd purchased for himself. It wasn't too hard to remember the number from eight years ago ... it wasn't as though he'd moved around that much.

The ringing was cut off by a voice telling him that the number he'd dialed was not assigned to a customer, and to redial and try again. Sylar lowered the phone slightly, thinking he'd misdialed. He tried the number again, only to receive the same message. He tried his adoptive father's watch shop next, but instead discovered it was the number for a pizza place. In a slight panic, he tried his mother's number next, but it ended up being a "wrong number". Sylar threw the phone onto his bed, running a hand through his hair. He didn't understand why the numbers didn't work, he didn't understand what was happening. After a moment, he picked up the phone again, this time dialing the number for "information".

"Can you find me a number for a Gabriel Gray, in New York City?" he asked the woman on the other end of the line.

There was the telltale sound of clicking keys, and then the woman responded, "I'm sorry, I can't find anyone by that name in that location."

Sylar blinked in confusion and frustration. "Okay ... what about Virginia Gray?"

More clacking of keys, and then she replied again, "I'm sorry, there's no one by that name, either. Are you sure you have the right location?"

Sylar ground his teeth, shutting the phone off and dropping it down onto the bed. It didn't make any sense. He paced around his bedroom for a few minutes, before he decided to try again. This time, he asked the person on the other end to look for a Noah Bennet in Odessa, Texas. ... Nothing. The same was true for Sandra Bennet, Lyle Bennet, and even the then supposedly eight or nine-year old Claire. The woman could find no phone number for any of those individuals.

Sylar tossed the phone back down in frustration, feeling his anger rising. His hands began to heat up, Sprague's stolen power responding to his anger. Sylar forced himself to calm down enough to control the power, his mind furiously working to understand the situation. Something was wrong, something was off ... they weren't only trapped in the past. They were somewhere else entirely.

...

_End of chapter five. _

_Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	6. Chapter 6

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Six. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for the awesome reviews so far, I'm glad you guys are still enjoying this story! _

_I'll respond to some reviews here: _

_**Gamebird:**__ Thanks for the fun review! I was fairly certain that's what you meant by the phones not working, so I just wanted to double-check. I confess I didn't do a whole lot of back-research into phones from 2000, so I won't go into a whole lot of detail where their cell phones are concerned. They're pretty much just gonna be there. Thanks again for the review!_

_**aclassicistkitten:**__ Thanks for the review! I haven't yet decided if The First is going to make an appearance in this fic. Most likely not, so by stating that, it kind of answers your question of The First messing with Sylar or not ... but I don't want to give too much away. I'm glad you're enjoying Claire's journey down the Wicca path. Thanks again for the review!_

_**Everyone else:**__ I'm so happy you guys are still enjoying this fic, it's been so much fun to write so far!_

_Alrighty, that's enough out of me, let get this show on the road!_

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

"A bake sale?" Claire questioned, trying to hold in her snicker.

"Yeah," Willow confirmed, shaking her head disbelievingly, even though she'd been there to witness it herself. "I mean, they're all about the emotional aspect of 'Gaia', but none of them even have real power. Well, except me and Tara," Willow added.

Claire nodded in understanding. She was happy that bumping into Willow had turned into such an enlightening experience. Witches, Vampires ... what didn't this town have?

"So, what about you?" Willow asked her, sipping on her own cappuccino.

"Hmm?"

Willow smiled slightly. "What kind of power do you have?" she clarified.

Claire blinked, looking down at her almost empty mug. "My power is ... it's ... I don't really like to talk about it," Claire finished lamely. She felt bad, considering how much Willow had just shared with her, but somehow she couldn't see the other girl handling well the idea that Claire was never going to die. "I mean, my power is nothing like yours, anyway."

Willow smiled at that, not wanting to push Claire to reveal more than she wanted to. "I've really only just scratched the surface of what's out there," Willow admitted. "And I've been learning so much more since I met Tara."

Claire smiled. "Yeah, you two seemed really close."

Willow blushed slightly at that, and Claire wondered if perhaps there was more than just friendship there. She didn't voice her question though, not wanting to pry.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I could use another latte," Claire spoke instead. She flagged down one of the waitresses after a moment, and ordered them each another drink.

Willow began to pull out her wallet to cover the cost of hers, but Claire waved her off.

"Don't worry about it," Claire told her, waiting for her to put her money away.

Before Willow could protest, a familiar figure walked into the coffee shop. "Xander," she called out with a wide smile, waving him over to the booth. "Do you mind if he joins us?" she asked Claire before Xander had made his way over.

"No, it's no biggie," Claire answered, watching as Willow made room on her side of the booth for her friend.

"Hey, Will," the dark-haired guy greeted before slipping into the seat next to her. "How's things?"

Willow shrugged. "Pretty good. Xander, this is Claire. Claire, Xander."

Xander smiled, looking over at the blonde girl. "Oh, you're Claire? Gosh, I feel like I know so much about you. Will here has been going on about you for ages."

Claire furrowed her brow at that, looking between the two of them.

Willow rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him, he wanted to be Class Clown back in high school."

"Hey, man, that vote was rigged!" Xander defended.

Claire chuckled at the two, feeling a little homesick after a moment. She hadn't had a friend like that since Zach ... she missed him. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter, not wanting to put a damper on the conversation with her trip down memory lane. "So, Xander, while we're re-caffeinating, what do you wanna drink?"

Xander shifted nervously in his seat. "I'm, uh, a little cash-light at the moment."

Claire scoffed. "I got it covered."

Willow nudged his shoulder. "She does that."

Xander nodded slowly. "Well, a moocher I am not," he tried.

Claire shook her head unconcernedly. "Well, I guess you'll just have to repay the favor the next time we meet. So, what'll it be?"

...

Claire wasn't picking up her phone, and Sylar was growing more and more agitated. He glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that Claire had been gone for over three hours. His frustration grew and grew, until he finally let loose a rather vocal grown of annoyance, accessing Jesse's Sound Manipulation ability. The living room furniture was forced against the wall opposite him, a few of the chairs getting broken in the fray.

Sylar sighed, his annoyance at their current predicament momentarily replaced by the task of cleaning up his mess.

He set to work repairing the living room, calling Claire another two times while he worked.

When she finally returned, the sight that met her was not a pleasant one. "What the ... what happened?" she asked him, dropping her bags on top of the only remaining piece of furniture that still appeared to be in one piece. The small desk only help up for a brief moment, before the added weight of her expenditures caused it to collapse, making Claire jump back an inch or two in response.

Sylar looked over his shoulder, shocked and elated that she'd finally arrived. He took a step towards her, but then realized the mess he'd made. "I ... I'll fix it later. Where were you?"

Claire stared back at him, still flabbergasted by the massive mess in the room. "I wasn't aware that I needed to report my actions to you. Again, what the hell happened in here?"

Sylar shook his head moving forward. "I should have realized it before. Canfield's powers weren't specifically related to time, it was naive to believe that the vortex would merely place us eight years in the past. The fact that we survived at all is a miracle in itself, but getting back is going to be far more difficult than either of us thought. Another planet? Another universe? Another reality? The possibilities of our location in time and space are infinite."

Claire took a step back from him as he approached, wondering what he was going on about. "What do you mean?"

Sylar looked down, pausing in his movements. "I tried to call myself ... I tried to warn Gabriel of what he would become, to stop it from ever happening ..."

Claire listened in silent surprise, pursing her lips together.

Sylar shook his head. "But he doesn't exist. Not here. Not wherever we are. I tried everyone, I tried my mother, my father's shop, your parents ... no one exists."

"I don't - that doesn't make any sense," she argued, reaching into her shoulder bag for her cell phone. She hastily dialed her old Odessa phone number, waiting for her mother or father to pick up the phone. Nothing. Claire shook her head, trying her father's cell, the old Primatech building, Peter, Angela ... even Nathan. None of the numbers worked. Some told her the number wasn't assigned to anyone, some people picked up and had the gall to tell her that she had the wrong number.

When Claire started shouting at the person on the other end of the line to put her 'god damned father on the phone!', Sylar pulled the cell phone away from her, ending the conversation.

Claire grabbed madly at the phone, desperate to try and contact someone - anyone - that she knew.

"Claire, calm down," Sylar told him, a hand on her shoulder to hold her back.

"Calm down? _Calm down_? You don't even know where we are! We're lost in some effed-up, vampire-infested world, and you're telling me to calm down?" Claire protested, still struggling against him.

Sylar sighed, and let go of her after a moment.

Without the strength of his arm holding her back, Claire launched forward into his chest. She pulled back quickly, staring up at him with confusion and fury in her eyes.

"Will beating the living hell out of me make you feel better? If so, go ahead," Sylar offered, holding his hands away from his body slightly, as though opening himself up to her. "Might as well get it out of your system now."

Claire's eyelids blinked furiously a couple times, her chest moving up and down with her heart pounding a staccato beat. She shook her head, turning away from him. She made it two steps down the hallway before she stopped, forced her body back around to face him, and then launched herself at him. The last thing she saw clearly before her wildly flying hair distorted her view, was her fist connecting roughly with Sylar's unprotected jaw.

Sylar allowed Claire to pound on him for almost ten minutes. She alternated between punching and clawing and kicking whatever part of him she could reach, and throwing various broken objects at him. She was screeching nearly the entire time, venting all of her frustrations over their current situation at him.

Finally, she picked up a broken piece of chair - that had a very sharp edge - and glared at Sylar while she held it in her hands.

Sylar sighed. "You can't kill me, Claire," he told her, standing up and wiping the blood off of his face, left from his already-healed lip. "Not permanently."

She glared daggers at him. "Actually, I can. See, my power comes with a little weak spot ... right at the base of your head. All I have to do is shove this stick into the back of your head, and you'll be gone ... forever."

Sylar wondered if she would actually do it. He'd done unspeakable things to her, things that would have killed anyone else. Did she really have it in her to kill him? "Then do it, Claire," he stated after a moment.

Claire stared back at him. "What?"

Sylar turned around, baring the back of his neck for her. "Do it. Kill me. Good luck getting home without me."

She gripped the piece of wood in her hands, contemplating his offer. She doubted he would actually stand there and let her kill him. He might have figured out that the only reason Claire knew about the weak spot, was that she had suffered a semi-permanent death because of it already. But, she was still standing. Maybe he thought she wouldn't _keep him_ dead.

She took a slow step forwards, clenching her hand around the piece of wood, her eyes focused on that spot at the back of his head. She swallowed a lump of air, and couldn't take another step. Her feet wouldn't allow her to move any closer to him ... though, maybe it was her conscience that was holding her back. With a growl of frustration, Claire tossed the chair leg onto the ground and turned back towards the collapsed desk, gathering up her previously abandoned items and heading towards her bedroom.

She didn't see Sylar's shoulders sag in defeat, or the look of near disappointment on his face.

...

_End of chapter six. _

_I know, that chapter was short. I wanted to end it with Claire taking out her anger on Sylar. I'll make up for it with the next one, I promise! _

_What did you guys think? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	7. Chapter 7

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Seven. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews/favorites/alerts, guys! You rock! _

_I'll respond to some reviews here: _

_**aclassicistkitten:**__ Thanks for the review! I definitely don't mind the questions, lol. I don't think I'll be including the Initiative in this story, but it's not a concrete 'no'. There might be some mention of Riley once I start establishing the Buffy/Spike stuff, and there will be some Walsh stuff, so I might include a bit of the Initiative. I haven't fully decided yet. Hehe, I believe I will include Parker in here somewhere, if only to have either Claire shut him down, or Sylar 'teach him the error of his ways' ... hehe, we'll see. Thanks for the great review! _

_**ravynsprt:**__ Thanks for the review! I don't want to give too much away, but I will say that Sylar and Claire haven't completely cleared the air between them. I would like to do a much more intense 'fighting' kind of scene between them down the line, because as of now, Claire really only slapped him around a bit. I too am looking forward to bringing all the Scoobies together with Sylar and Claire, it will be fun to write. Thanks again for the great review! _

_**Everyone else:**__ I'm glad you guys are still enjoying this story, thanks for the wonderful reviews. I'll try to keep up with the quick updates! _

_Alrighty, that's enough out of me, let's get on with the story! _

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Claire stayed in her room for over three hours, sitting in the furthest corner from the door, huddled up with her knees pressed against her chest and her arms latched around her legs. She was full of anger, sadness, depression, frustration, confusion, fear, and guilt.

Angry, because only Sylar would try to goad her into killing him, just to see if she would do it. Sad, because she just wanted to go home and be with her family again. Depressed, because she was beginning to feel like no matter what she did, this nightmare would never end. Frustrated, because while her power kept her from dying, she felt as though she couldn't really do anything ... sure, she'd survived two vampire attacks, but she hadn't exactly made a contribution in either one of them. Was she destined to be a human target for the rest of her life? Confused, because she didn't know where in the universe she was, how she was going to get back, or if she even would. And finally, she was full of guilt ... guilt, because even for just a moment, she had wanted to plunge that broken piece of chair into Sylar's neck, and leave him there to rot. Even though he'd done nothing but help her for the last two days, even though he'd admitted that he wanted to find his past self and stop him from ever becoming the monster that Claire knew so well.

But did she really know him? She'd only encountered him a handful of times in the past couple years. She hated him for what he did to Jackie, for what he did to her, for what he did to countless others ... but didn't she have it in her to be just as savage? She'd wanted to kill him, then. And what about Brady? She'd meant to kill him for what he'd done to her. It was a miracle that he had survived. She had no idea what had made Sylar into the killer that he was. What if he really did want to change?

It was a long time before Claire got up the courage to go back downstairs. She didn't know what she was going to say to him, if she was going to say anything at all, but she knew that she couldn't hide in her room forever. She hadn't yet tried to die of starvation, but something told her that it wouldn't be pretty. Since it was a little past supper time, she figured he might have made something for him to eat, and maybe she could scoop some and head back upstairs.

She discovered when she got downstairs, however, that Sylar was nowhere in sight. The living room had been cleaned of the broken bits of furniture, making it look fairly barren. When she looked in the kitchen, she found a note on the table.

"_Went out to get supper, will be back by 6:15. There are knives in the counter by the sink, if you feel like trying again when I get back. Sincerely, Sylar." _

Claire stared at the note, her anger rising again. He just had to keep pushing, didn't he? She glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that it just after six. There were a few dishes in the sink from the previous night, and what little they'd used throughout the day, but she needed something to occupy her hands. She couldn't guarantee that she would come back down if she went up to her room to wait for Sylar to return.

Claire ignored the dishwasher glaring at her from beside the sink, and instead filled it up with hot water, adding some soap from under the sink. It appeared to have been left by the previous tenants, as it was nearly half-empty. Once the sink was filled to her satisfaction, she began the arduous task of scrubbing the dishes clean. The only effect that the hot water had on her, was that it turned her skin red. She could no longer feel the burning pain that she once did from sticking her hands in overly hot water. Sometimes that was good, but mostly she hated it. She wanted that pain back again. She wanted to _feel_ like she was the tiniest bit human.

Her mind thought over the time she'd spent with Willow and her friend, Xander. It was nice to know what Willow's power was: witchcraft. Claire didn't think it was the same kind of "power" that she and Sylar had, though ... it seemed to come from her emotions and inner self, not her brain.

If they truly weren't on _their_ Earth, then it was interesting to note that there were different kinds of powers out there, aside from the abilities that they were aware of.

Claire wondered if she should come clean with Willow about who she was, and what her interest in her was. She didn't want to lie to the girl, but she also didn't want to scare her away. Most normal people got creeped out by the girl who couldn't die ...

Sylar returned, interrupting her from her thoughts.

Claire's body stiffened when the front door closed, but she didn't turn around to look at him. She didn't even acknowledge his presence. She didn't want to know what she would see when she turned around. It was difficult, though, as the food he'd picked up smelled delicious.

"Chinese food," Sylar answered, almost as though he'd read her thoughts.

As far as she knew, he hadn't _acquired_ that ability. Claire finished up in the sink, leaving the dishes to dry and draining the sink. By the time she was finished divesting her hands of dish soap and water, and had sufficiently fiddled with the towel to her heart's content, Sylar had sorted out the food and seated himself at the kitchen table, digging into his chicken fried rice.

Claire hesitated a moment before joining him, sliding some sweet and sour pork her way.

"So, no knife?" Sylar asked her after he swallowed a large bite.

Claire sighed, setting down her dish, the chopsticks sticking out at opposite angles. "Look, we're probably gonna be stuck here for a while. Can we just call a truce or something? You stop being creepy and psychotic, and I'll stop blaming you for everything that goes wrong in the world ... sound like a deal?"

Sylar narrowed his eyes at her, wondering if she would actually follow through on that. "Kind of like a 'what happens in Vegas' thing?"

Claire wrinkled her nose at that. "No."

Sylar had a chuckle at her expression, digging into his supper once more. "Fine, Claire. As long as we're here, I'll play nice if you will."

She pursed her lips, exhaling through her nose before picking up the dish again. "Okay."

"Okay," he agreed.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, neither really knowing what to say. Finally, Claire spoke up. "The girls from the magic shop? They're witches."

...

Claire was perturbed with the headline on the paper the next morning. It held basically the same information as the previous one, only this time the papers were calling the killings the work of a spree killer. The number of victims was increasing, it seemed. Though, Claire had to wonder if there were more people dead than the papers thought, as there were also a few missing person's photos within the pages.

She had a nagging feeling that something was wrong - aside from the obvious - but she couldn't put her finger on it. According to the girl she'd met by the park, vampires were a common occurrence in Sunnydale ... yet the papers were making it seem as though the vicious killings were something new. Claire thought back to what the weird, bleached-blond guy had said, about the vampire that attacked her being older than most ... and he'd referred to someone called 'The Master'. Claire didn't exactly like the sound of that.

She scraped her remaining eggs into the garbage and grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, heading up the stairs in search of Sylar. He'd been pouring over the books that she'd bought the other day, ever since Claire had informed him of the reality of witchcraft. He wanted - needed - to know everything there was to know about it, and Claire wondered if they would soon be making another trip back to that occult store. She wondered if the little shop had ever gotten as much business as they were currently bringing in.

Claire found Sylar where she suspected: perched in the middle of his bed, four books open on the mattress, his eyes bouncing back and forth, seeming to switch between books rapidly.

"Anything interesting?" Claire asked him, leaning against the doorframe. Their truce had created an air of civility, though she didn't know how long it would last.

Sylar bobbed his head up and down, practically leaping off the bed with one of the books. "This book postulates that there are 11 known dimensions. These dimensions can be extremely similar to ours - such as one which is simply a world without shrimp - or they can be entire different. As there was shrimp in the chow mein last night, I think we can safely say that we are not in that dimension," Sylar recounted to her quickly. He returned the book to the bed, coming back with another one. "This one, however, goes on about worlds than can be changed with a simple wish. One simple act that completely changes everything you know about the world. It's fascinating."

Claire blinked, squeezing the bottle in her hand slightly. "Does that help us get back to our world?"

Sylar paused. "... Not necessarily."

She sighed, nodding her head.

Sylar's fingers twitched at his sides before he spoke, "It would be extremely helpful if I could talk to these witches."

Claire shook her head, standing up straight. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"They could have the information that we need," Sylar argued. "All it would take is one look -"

"No," the smaller girl declared. "Look at you? You're like an addict jonesing for a hit. You're not going near those two."

Sylar clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists by his sides.

Claire met his gaze unfazed. "Tell me I'm wrong," she dared him.

He stared at her with mild contempt before averting his gaze, silently admitting that she was right.

She chewed on her lip, wanting to move past his battling of the desires that he was feeling. "Do you really think that witchcraft is our best chance at getting home?"

Sylar nodded his head, still not looking at her.

"Okay," Claire spoke, moving out of the room and down the hall. She grabbed her bag out of her room and returned to his doorway. "I have to get to my meeting with the Dean," she reminded him. "Once I get back, we'll head back into town, pick up some more supplies."

Sylar furrowed his brow at her. "What supplies?"

Claire shrugged her bag into a more comfortable position on her shoulder, glancing at him headlong. "Computers, more information on witchcraft ... maybe some junk food."

Sylar quirked a brow at her when she said the last one.

"What? A girl can't have her vices?"

...

The meeting with the Dean went well. He had a few questions for her: why she was starting in the middle of the year, why she wanted to come to UC Sunnydale, when with her grades, she could get into virtually any Ivy League school, and finally - and this one was closely related to the last - why she wanted to go to UC Sunnydale, when she could afford to go anywhere she wanted to.

Claire simply told him that she'd moved to Sunnydale for a fresh start, and that this was the best place for her to continue her education. He accepted the donation that Sylar had arranged, and got to work arranging her course schedule. She made of point of selecting Walsh's Psych 101 course, as well as the Drama class that Willow had mentioned she was taking. She added a dreadfully easy-looking Geography course to the list as well, to complete the minimum requirements.

Dean Richards sent her approved schedule to the registrars to put into the system, and sent Claire on her way to "prepare for the coming semester".

She couldn't help smiling as she left the campus, making her way to her car. Even though she knew it wasn't real, she liked the idea of being a college girl. She tried to quell the fondness that was growing within her for this world, but it was harder than she thought.

She took the car back to the house and picked up Sylar, glaring at him over the top of her new sunglasses when he attempted to extricate her from the driver's seat. She had to restrain herself from chuckling triumphantly when he gripped the "oh shit" handle a little too tightly as she drove.

They picked up their computer supplies first, each picking their own choice of laptops and hardware. Sylar put in a call to have internet hooked up in their house once they got back, using his most menacing voice to assure the man on the other end of the line that he would not be waiting around all day for a technician to arrive. He gave them the time that they would be home by, and let the man allude to what would happen if the technician wasn't there promptly at that time.

The next stop was the grocery store, and they picked up a bunch of snack food, as well as some meat and pasta that they could cook for real meals.

Finally, they returned to the magic store. By now, the little man behind the counter easily recognized Claire, one of his few return shoppers, and certainly the two of them were his biggest customers of late.

He bumbled over to them almost as soon as they entered the store, asking them if there was anything that he could help them find. Sylar explained that they would need his best books on real witchcraft, and books about spells that dealt with traveling to different worlds/dimensions/universes/realities. The man hesitated for a short moment, before he quickly bounded through the store, pulling books off of various shelves and thrusting them into a basket. He also suggested a bunch of ingredients that they might find useful, and Sylar allowed him to place those in the basket as well.

Claire browsed the shelves while she waited for the overly excited man to finish pillaging his supplies for them, thinking about everything that Sylar had she had bought in the last couple days. She'd never really seen money as the key to happiness ... she was raised better than that.

But, with the realization that she would never die, Claire started to think of all the things that money _could_ buy. Sure, it couldn't buy her a life of love and smiles, but it could definitely grant her security.

She wondered if she could convince Sylar to use his alchemy ability to turn some things gold for her once they returned to their world. She didn't want to go out and buy herself a bunch of ridiculously expensive, material objects, but perhaps she should start planning for her future. Set up a trust fund, maybe buy some stock. A fair sized hunk of gold could probably buy her a house out of the way somewhere, where no one would notice the unbreakable girl who never died.

Claire allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts, unwittingly thinking of all the things in her life that could be so much easier with Sylar's presence in her life.

Once they left the magic shop, she let him drive, instructing him that they should also find some sort of furniture store to replace everything that he had broken in his ... momentary lapse of control.

They picked up everything that they wanted and returned home in time for the technician to install their internet. He had clearly been instructed of Sylar's 'demanding attitude', as he got the job done with minimal chatter, even connected their brand new computers to their network.

It wasn't until after he'd left that Claire realized he'd called her "Mrs. Gray", clearly thinking that she and Sylar were a couple.

...

_End of chapter seven. _

_Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_I'll try to include more of the Scooby Gang in the next chapter, as well as some more vampires/monsters. _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	8. Chapter 8

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Eight. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for the great reviews so far! I'm so happy you guys are still enjoying this story! _

_I'll respond to some reviews here: _

_**varnish7:**__ Thank you for the review. The problem with using Dawn as the Key to open up a portal to take them back to their reality/dimension/universe, is that you can't pick and choose which one you open up. They would all be opened up, and hell would reign on Earth, as was evident in the season 5 finale of Buffy. I chose season four because I didn't want to include Dawn in this story, the characters are closer to Claire's age, and I wanted it to take place relatively soon after the episode "Something Blue", to work in the relationship between Spike and Buffy, while cutting Riley out. I hope that this answers your question, and that you still enjoy this story. Thanks again for the review!_

_**ravynsprt:**__ As always, thanks for the great review, and for inspiring this story in the first place. It would be interesting to do another, separate crossover, where Sylar and Claire do come through in season six, and give Sylar some competition for being the "big bad". It would be interesting to see who would win between Sylar and evil-Willow, especially if Sylar had all of the abilities he has in season four. Thanks again for the great review!_

_**Everyone else:**__ I'm so happy you're still enjoying this story, thank you for all the wonderful reviews/favorites/alerts. You guys rock! _

_As promised, there's some more vampires making an appearance in this story, as well as some Scoobies. _

_Without much further ado, let's get on with the story. _

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Claire was sleeping soundly when she heard the first scream. She jolted awake immediately, her hair whipping around her as she tried to ascertain what had woken her from her peaceful slumber. Then she heard it again. "_Nooo! Stop!_" Claire jumped out of her bed, neglectful of the fact that she was sleeping in her underwear, and ran towards her door. She didn't know what was happening, or what she could possibly do to help, but gut instinct made her run towards the screams. Another voice was suddenly added to the fray. "_Oh, my god! No, please!_" Claire quickened her pace, bolting down the hallway,

She didn't see Sylar coming out of his own room, and ran pell-mell into him, knocking them both off their feet. Their momentum carried them both down the stairs, a few bones breaking on the way down.

Claire ended up on top of Sylar, thinking how gruesome and fascinating it was that she could hear his insides repairing themselves. She glanced over at herself and noticed that her arm had come out of its socket. She went to repair it, and felt his warm hand on her flesh.

Claire blinked, opening her mouth to tell him - possibly - to not touch her, but before she could utter a single syllable, he easily wrenched the limb back into place, watching as her arm perfectly remolded itself. It was a completely foreign feeling to Claire: having someone else "patch her up".

She didn't have time to notice that she was still on top of him, or that he was topless, as another scream tore them from their thoughts, only this time, the scream was cut off mid-screech.

They both jumped to their feet, scurrying out the front door to discover what the panic was all about.

Claire scanned the area around them, wishing she'd thought to grab a flashlight before they'd left the house.

Sylar began to move to his right, so Claire simply followed him, thinking that he was using one of his many abilities to hone in on the owners of the shrieking voices.

They seemed to be heading in the right direction, because soon Claire could hear the most nauseating sound she'd ever heard - without the added distraction of the blood rushing to the pulse point in her own neck: slurping. More specifically, the slurping of blood from a helpless victim's neck.

Claire's eyes widened as the full scene came into view: four vampires - the pale, bald, scarier kind - feasting on two young women. While the women had been screaming for their lives before, they were silent now. The vampires had almost completely drained their bodies of blood.

Claire brought a hand up to her mouth, unconsciously stepping closer to Sylar and drawing a sharp breath.

The vampires must have heard her gasp, because they all looked up at the same time.

Claire knew that she couldn't die, she had already been bitten by two different vampires and had lived to tell about it ... but she was scared. Could her body regenerate after it had been completely drained of blood? Could Sylar's? Would either one of them survive an attack against four apparently hungry vampires?

She didn't know, and she wasn't too anxious to find out.

Sylar was possibly of the same mind, as he also took a step backwards, holding out his hands in a defensive posture.

"What are you waiting for?" Claire asked him in an urgent, whispered voice. "Slice their heads off before they make us their next meal!"

His fingers twitched, preparing to do just that, when two of the vampires made a move for them, lunging forwards. Sylar reacted, tossing them both backwards with his telekinesis, until they were pinned against a pair of tree trunks.

The other two vampires looked surprised, but didn't let it phase their attacks. They hurried in Sylar and Claire's direction just as the other two had, and Sylar had to use another power to keep them at bay, so as not to lose his hold on the first two: sound manipulation. With a loud shout, he sent the second 'wave' of attackers flying backwards, until they were out of sight. Sylar turned his full attention back to the two stuck to the trees, prepared to cut their heads off and disintegrate them into dust, when he was jumped on from behind.

His first assumption was that Claire had pounced on him for some inexplicable reason, but her shriek from behind him convinced him otherwise. It wasn't until the fangs dug into his neck that he realized another vampire must have attacked him from behind. He groaned in pain as the vampire tore at his neck, and his hold on the other two broke, freeing them from their invisible prisons.

Not knowing what else to do, Claire grabbed the nearest sharp stick that she could find, mentally crossing her fingers before jamming the stick into - what she hoped was - his heart. Wasn't that how the good guy always killed the vampire in the scary movies?

She only succeeded in making him turn around, setting his hungered eyes on her.

Claire backed away, hating in that moment that her ability was purely defensive. There was nothing she could do to stop the attack. She didn't know how long it would take for Sylar to get back on his feet, and be able to save them both, especially with the other two vampires heading for them once more. She picked up another stick, throwing it wildly at the approaching vampire, and then tried to run around him to get back to Sylar.

The vampire grabbed her arm and viciously twisted it, breaking one or more bones and sending her careening to the ground. The last thing that Claire was aware of before her head hit the pavement, was a familiar, shouting voice.

...

"You would do well to aim that stick elsewhere," a silky voice spoke carefully, the first thing that she heard clearly when the world swam back into view.

"The only place this _stick_ is aiming is right at your heart, until you explain to me what the hell just happened," a girl spoke in response.

Claire recognized that voice.

"You seem to be conveniently forgetting the fact that I just saved your life," Sylar growled, and Claire could practically _feel_ his anger and power rising with each word that he uttered.

She decided now would be a good time to interrupt. Her body now fully healed, she carefully pushed herself off the ground, steadying herself and regaining her equilibrium. Now that her vision had cleared, she could tell where she recognized the girl from.

"You?" Buffy spoke, staring at the girl who, until recently, she'd thought was dead on the ground.

Claire looked from the girl, to the crossbow in her hands, to Sylar, and then back to the girl. "Um, hi."

Buffy shook her head. "You were dead," she spoke. "I saw that thing break your arm, and the way your head smacked into the ground ... how are you alive?"

Claire glanced down at herself, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was only wearing a thin-strap shirt and underwear. Sylar was dressed only in a pair of dark boxers, but he didn't seem to be as concerned for their lack of dress as she currently was. Crossing her arms over her chest reflexively, Claire answered, "Just lucky, I guess."

"No one's that lucky. Not unless you're one of _them_," Buffy stated, shaking her head again and moving the crossbow to point it at Claire.

If there was anything else that she was going to say, she never got the chance. Sylar flicked his wrist, knocking her off her feet before bringing his hand all the way up to send her flying towards a tree - one of the ones the vampires had been pressed against such a short time ago. "Not the smartest choice you could have made," Sylar told her, sending a rather heated gaze her way.

Buffy struggled against his hold, staring back at him while she continued to struggle. "What are you?"

"Evolved," Sylar answered simply, his fingers twitching as he tried to decide whether he should cut her head open, cut it off, or just break her neck.

Claire stepped in front of him, grabbing his outstretched hand. "Sylar, no."

He forced his eyes away from Buffy, looking down at the smaller girl holding onto his hand, concern and worry filling her green eyes. Her hair was matted with blood where she'd cracked her head against the pavement, one of the straps on her shirt was falling down her arm, and she was standing barefoot on her tip-toes, trying to be just a little bit taller. He focused on her, his mind thinking what a delectable image she made.

"Let's just go," Claire spoke, realizing that she had his attention.

Sylar's nostrils flared, glancing back at the blonde who was still struggling against her invisible bonds.

"Sylar, please," Claire begged in a hushed voice.

He sighed lengthily before relenting, stepping backwards with her. He kept his hold on Buffy until they were out of sight, keeping his eyes and ears open to make sure they weren't followed.

Once they were back in the house, Claire grew self-conscious of her attire, and retreated to her room briefly to grab a robe. She came back down the stairs to see that Sylar didn't have the same qualms about his near-nudity, and forced herself to look into his eyes, and not at his bare chest. "What happened?" she asked him, wondering what had transpired in the brief moments that she was "dead".

Sylar explained to her that the girl had shown up, firing an arrow at the vampire with her crossbow. It had little-to-no effect, and that seemed to shock her. She'd reloaded her crossbow, but the vampires started coming after her. It was three-on-one, and Sylar disposed of two of them with his hands, severing their necks with his telekinetic ability. He commented to Claire that it was slightly more difficult than when he'd beheaded the vampire their first night, as though their skin was "thicker". Next, he told Claire how the girl fought the third and last vampire, noting how she'd seemed to have heightened speed and strength. It fascinated him, but she'd been losing the fight against the other vampire. He ended the fight by sending the vampire flying backwards, watching as he landed on the street almost two blocks away. The vampire had scurried away, and when Sylar looked back at the girl, she'd had her crossbow trained on him.

The rest Claire knew, and she found herself perched on the arm of one of the new living room chairs, thinking about what had happened. "So, she was, what? A vampire hunter, or something?"

Sylar shrugged. "No idea." He flexed his fingers out and in, wishing slightly that Claire had let him kill the girl. A quick look in her brain would have told him everything he needed to know.

Claire must have realized his train of thought, as she looked up at him with softer eyes. "Thank you for not killing her."

Sylar shook his head. "That could have been a big mistake, you realize? What if she starts hunting us? Would you like to try and get back home, while being on the run from some supernatural huntress?"

Claire sighed, standing up form the chair. "Maybe we can explain it to her," she tried. "I mean, we're bound to run into her again. Plus, you did save her life," she added with a small smile. "After she calms down, who knows?"

Sylar rolled his eyes at her naivety. "We'll see."

Claire pursed her lips, doubting that she would get any more than that from him. "Well, it's late," she spoke, fiddling with the tie on her robe. "I'm gonna get back to bed. ... Goodnight."

Sylar nodded in response, watching her retreating form as she made her way up the stairs. He stayed up a little while longer, ignoring the trembling from within him. He could feel the need stirring within him, the burning fire to know and have the huntress's power. Claire had managed to pull him away, but he didn't know if she would be able to next time. Even though it had only been a handful of days since he'd taken Jesse's power, he could feel the hunger growing inside of him, desperate to be sated.

...

The next morning, in a small apartment in the heart of Sunnydale, a crew of monster hunters gathered to discuss their latest problem.

"These guys were strong, Giles," Buffy informed him, pacing around the room. "They were like The Master, only uglier, and stronger. I'm telling you, that Earthquake a couple nights ago? It opened the Hellmouth. I'm sure of it."

The older man shook his head, peeling his glasses off his face and rubbing the back of his hand on his forehead. "Buffy, that doesn't make any sense. There were no signs, no omens to prelude to the Hellmouth being opened. Don't you think if there were a powerful enough being in town, that we would have noticed something before now?"

Buffy replied quickly, "What about the other two? I saw them the other night, and she said she was new in town. What if they came into town to open the Hellmouth?"

Spike put in his two cents from across the room. "You really think that if they had opened the Hellmouth, that they would just stand around to get eaten by the very things that they let loose?"

Buffy cocked an angry eyebrow at him. "You really think I believe that you scared the other vampire away? I know you lied, Spike. Why the hell would you protect her?"

"You know, I just don't know, Slayer. I mean, the company around here is so stellar, why would I possibly want to go out and make some new friends?" he bit back.

Buffy glared heavily at him, her ire rising by the second.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Giles intervened, moving to his bookshelf and pulling off a few volumes. "If these two are somehow involved, we need to figure out how."

Buffy nodded. "Not to mention, how to stop these Uber-Vamps from turning this town into an all-you-can-eat buffet. I need to know how to kill them ... stake to the heart just didn't cut it."

Giles paused briefly, allowing that to sink in, before handing out books to everyone in the room, and beginning the dreary but necessary task of research.

Willow poured over her own book, a nagging feeling tugging at the back of her spine, but she couldn't identify it. She felt as though she knew something, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.

...

_End of chapter eight. _

_Well, what did you guys think of this one? Like it, hate it? _

_Should be some more interaction between the groups in the next chapter. _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	9. Chapter 9

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Nine. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: I'm so glad you guys are still enjoying this story! Thanks for all the awesome reviews! I'm excited that this story has gotten some of you watching/re-watching Buffy! _

_Sorry I didn't get this chapter up sooner. I meant to get it finished yesterday, but I got bogged down with reading assignments for one of my classes. _

_Anywhoo, here's the next chapter! _

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Claire held one side of her curtain open, staring out her bedroom window at the crowd gathering. Someone had found the two girls' bodies around 5:30 am, and the police had shown up just under ten minutes later. The area had been "sealed off" with the impenetrable yellow tape, and soon people had been coming out of their dorms and other on-campus housing to see what all the fuss was about.

Claire had thought about calling in the attack herself, but she realized that it would put her on the radar, and the last thing that she needed was to get hauled into the police station, and have her identity put under scrutiny. So, she waited. Inevitably, someone else would have to find the bodies. And they had. A pair of early-morning joggers had discovered the bodies, and their shrieks of shock and terror woke Claire from her already light sleep. It had been a wonder that she'd managed to fall back asleep at all.

From her position, she could see some people in the crowd being questioned, giving Claire another reason to remain where she was, and not try to give her assistance. She doubted the local law enforcement could even deal with what she had seen so few hours ago.

She didn't hear him come in behind her, but to her credit, she didn't jump out of her skin when Sylar sidled up beside her, drawing the curtains over so he could also have a view of the crime scene.

"Feel free to come on in," Claire mumbled sarcastically, glancing up at him.

Sylar only smirked in response, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Does this even bother you at all?" Claire asked him earnestly.

Sylar sighed, waiting a moment before meeting her gaze. "I didn't wish those women dead, Claire ... but I also realize there was nothing I could have done to prevent it. I'm not going to bemoan what's happened. It's over, I've moved on."

Claire stared heavily back out the window. "How rational of you."

He nodded his head once, dropping his side of the curtain back down. "Well, I'm going to get started on our mountain of research. If you'd like to stare out the window and grieve pointlessly for those women all day, suit yourself."

Claire defiantly looked out the window until she was sure that he was gone, and then sighed, dropping the curtain down to block her view of the scene. She shouldn't feel bad for mourning the loss of human life, she knew that. It wasn't a bad thing that she was upset over their deaths. But, she conceded internally, staring out the window all day wasn't going to bring them back, either. It wasn't going to make the vampires stop existing, or help them get back home.

Claire rolled her eyes to the heavens before making her way out of her room, and down the stairs to the living room below.

When Sylar came into view, she saw that he already had his new laptop set up on the coffee table in front of him, with a couple books set beside him on the couch seats. He glanced at her briefly before returning to the screen in front of him.

Claire placed her hands firmly on her hips, staring him down even though he wasn't looking at her. "You're an asshole."

Sylar blinked, removing his lengthy digits from the keyboard and turning his head slowly to face her.

Claire gritted her teeth before she continued, "But, you also have a point. Moping around all day isn't going to bring them back."

Sylar nodded slowly. "Okay."

Claire didn't know if she expected him to say anything else - gloat, maybe - but she accepted his one-word answer and grabbed her own laptop off the desk, sitting down on the armchair and booting it up. She tapped her foot impatiently, accustomed to her own internet connection being at least ten times faster, but showed no other outward signs of complaint.

Sylar only smirked in response, bouncing back and forth between the books, his laptop, and the notes he was making.

...

By the time late afternoon rolled around, of the _next day_, their tensions and tempers were just about at breaking point. Stuck in the small house with nothing but each other for company for the past two days, researching images that made Claire nauseous, and spells that seemed to deal only partially with what they needed to do, they two of them were about at their breaking point.

Finally, Claire suggested a respite from their studying. It would be Christmas in a few days, and she suggested they go out and buy decorations and other similar things to take their minds off their seemingly impossible situation.

Shopping wasn't exactly Sylar's idea of a break, but he also didn't relish the idea of being stuck in the house while Claire took off with the car, so he relented. He needed to buy some more clothes as well, so he figured he could do that while she looked at flashing lights, or whatever else she planned to assault their domicile with.

They headed for the local mall, Sylar in the driver's seat after telekinetically snatching the keys from the table before Claire could reach them. He wasn't in the mood for more of her reckless driving, despite the fact that neither of them could die for a car accident ... just 'cause they were immortal, didn't mean that the car had to suffer.

Sylar extricated himself from Claire almost immediately, letting her know - in no uncertain terms - that she would _not_ be waiting outside the dressing room for him. He told her he would phone her when he was done to find out where she was, and stalked off towards a men's clothing store.

Claire thought about following him just to taunt him, but she didn't want to upset the delicate balance of their truce, and so she headed towards the hardware store for some lights, maybe even a tree.

"It's not as though any of them want me there," she heard a girl complaining as she browsed ornaments. "The only reason I only go with you to see them is so I don't have to go hours without staring at your cute ass."

Claire blinked, hearing the person she was talking to clearing his throat nervously.

"Um, Sweetie, do you remember when we talked about 'bedroom talk'?" he asked her.

Claire grinned now, recognizing that voice.

"What? Do you really think there are other people concerning themselves with my talking about your cute ass?" the woman replied.

Claire chose that moment to stick her head around the corner, getting a full view of the two. "Hi, Xander," she greeted.

Xander glared at the woman beside him for a moment, as if to say, "See! I told you!", and then smiled tightly at Claire. "Hey, fancy seeing you here." He shuffled with the menorah in his hands.

"I didn't know you were Jewish," Claire commented, not wanting the meeting to get awkward.

"Oh, I'm not," Xander replied. "Willow is ... sort of. Mostly her parents. We - Anya here - thought it would be nice to bring a gift to dinner tonight, didn't you, Sweetie?"

Anya looked at him humorlessly for a moment, before she turned and smiled at Claire. "Yes, I did. That is the polite and guestly thing to do. I'm very thoughtful that way. How do you know Xander?"

Claire's eyelids fluttered briefly, absorbing the monotone response while working through a response to her question. "Uh, we just met the other day, actually. Through Willow." She held her hand out for the other girl to shake. "I'm Claire."

"Oh, I see," Anya said, giving her a perfunctory handshake. "So, are you a witch as well?"

Xander looked as though he was resisting the urge to elbow her in the gut, but didn't want to chance dropping the menorah.

Claire chuckled softly. "Um, not a practicing one, no. I just find the whole area fascinating."

Anya nodded, looking back at Xander. "Have I been pleasant enough yet? I would like to get home so we can have more sex."

Claire hid her smile by readjusting her purse on her shoulder.

Xander looked as though he might die of embarrassment, but trucked right on. "Yeah, um, we should go."

"It was nice seeing you again, Xander," Claire spoke, giving him a small wave.

"Mm-hmm," he replied. He turned to leave, but then paused. "Hey, a bunch of us are going to the Bronze later, you should come. Give me a chance to repay you for that coffee."

Claire tilted her head a bit. "'The Bronze'?"

"Right, new in town. It's Sunnydale's version of a nightclub, but it's a pretty decent place to hang out. Good music. I'll let Willow know if you wanna come?"

Claire nodded after a minute. "Sure. I don't have any big plans for tonight. Could be fun," Claire replied. It would be better than resisting the urge to throw her laptop across the room in frustration.

Xander nodded. "Cool. See you there, Witchy Woman."

Claire rolled her eyes in response, watching the two leave before returning to her browsing. She was really starting to like Willow and Xander, and Xander's girlfriend was quirky enough to be funny. A small part of her knew that she would miss this world, if and when she ever found a way home.

...

"You think that now is the best time to go out _clubbing_?" Sylar asked her from outside her bedroom door. He would have liked to just force the damn thing open and 'discuss' this face-to-face, but she was changing, and she informed him that if he attempted to 'sneak a peek', she would castrate him repeatedly. Sylar didn't relish the idea of watching his genitals re-grow, just to have her snip them off again.

"I'm not 'going clubbing', I'm relieving stress by hanging out with friends," Claire corrected him.

"'Friends' that we are just using to get home," Sylar retorted through the door.

Claire paused her movements, her shirt only half-adjusted. "It's not like that," she told him, and partially herself.

"Don't delude yourself, Claire," came his reply.

Claire flared her nostrils as she finished assembling her outfit, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she grabbed her bag and swung her door open. "Maybe you've never had any _real_ friends, but I don't need to pretend to be nice to people to get them to like me. I actually enjoy spending time with these people, a hell of a lot more than I enjoy being cooped up in this house with you!"

Sylar's jaw clenched, and Claire felt a momentary flutter of fear in her heart, realizing that insulting a serial killer probably wasn't the best course of action. He leaned forward, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. His face came to rest just inches away from hers, lips parting as he spoke in a quiet voice. "And I don't need the childish approval of others to validate my self-worth."

Claire had to wonder how much of that statement was true, but she didn't voice her thoughts. She restrained herself from swallowing the saliva that had built up in her mouth, not wanting Sylar to think that his words - his very presence - could make her gulp. Instead, she cleared her throat, and met his eyes defiantly. "Well, you can think whatever you want, I'm going out tonight. Don't wait up," she added before she turned to head down the stairs.

Sylar followed directly behind her. "You're not going without me," he informed her.

Claire paused her descent, looking back at him. "Excuse me? I don't need a chaperone."

Sylar scoffed, moving past her on the hardwood staircase. "I've seen what happens when you wander around this town at night. You're like a vampire magnet." He moved to the closet, grabbing his new jacket and sliding it one.

Claire swiftly banished the traitorous that he looked good in the dark material. "What, you're my protector all of a sudden?"

Sylar stared pointedly at her. "What would your father think if I came back and informed him that you'd spent your time here as a vampire's personal blood bank?" he wondered.

Claire's eyes narrowed. "So, this is about my father?"

Sylar said nothing.

Claire slid on her heeled shoes, grabbing the keys off the table and holding them tightly in her hand. "Do you really think that if you tell him that you saved me from some blood-sucking fiends, that he'll suddenly decide you're reformed?"

Sylar shrugged, telekinetically retrieving the keys from her tightly gripped hand. "Couldn't hurt."

Claire relented, joining him in the car as they drove to their destination.

It wasn't too hard to find, as the town really wasn't that big, and they easily found a parking space for the Mustang.

"Are you gonna, like ... hang out with us?" Claire wondered as they made their way into the Bronze.

"Aww, are you afraid I'm gonna put a damper on your 'cool' aspect?" he asked her.

"No, I'm more worried about you scalping my friends," Claire told him honestly.

Sylar sighed, spotting the bar through the crowd. "Well, unlike you, I'm of drinking age. If you need me, I'll be at the bar."

Claire nodded, making her way through the scatted bodies to find Xander and/or Willow. She finally spotted Xander's head bobbing to the music at a table near the back, and made a beeline for him.

"Hey," Claire greeted, her voice slightly louder to be heard over the music.

"Hey, you made it!" Xander called back, waiting for her to sit down.  
Claire glanced around as she sat, placing her bag on the table in front of her. "This place is pretty cool," she commented.

Xander shrugged. "It's alright." He glanced over at the bar. "Alright, pick your poison. My treat," he added.

Claire smiled. "A soda would be great."

Xander nodded, leaving the two girls at the table as he went to get their drinks.

Claire sat awkwardly for a moment before turning her attention to Anya. "So, how long have you and Xander been together?"

"We've been having intercourse for a few months now," Anya replied.

Claire blinked in surprise. "Well, that's ... certainly a blunt way of putting it." She was saved from making more small-talk by another arrival at the table.

"Hey, Claire," Willow greeted. "Xander said you might be coming."

Claire nodded in response, noticing Tara standing quietly behind Willow. "Yeah, I thought I'd check this place out for myself. Hey, Tara," Claire added, waving at the other girl.

Tara smiled slightly in response, waving her hand a little.

Willow looked back at her friend. "Where's Xander?" she asked the brunette at the table.

Anya replied, "He went to the bar to get drinks. Non-alcoholic drinks ... 'cause we are apparently not of the required 'legal' age to drink alcohol." She murmured a complaint silently to herself.

Willow nodded slowly, grabbing an extra chair for Tara before she sat down. "Well, this is Tara. She's a friend of mine from Wicca group."

Anya nodded briefly in response, craning her neck to try and spot Xander in the crowd.

"So, did you get your classes all sorted out?" Willow asked Claire.

She nodded her head, thinking briefly about what Sylar had said before, about her just using Willow for her powers. She didn't want that to be true. "Yeah, I got into Walsh's psych class, and the other ones that I wanted."

Willow smiled, excited at the prospect of having another friend in the class. "That's great. It's such a fun course ... not too, fun, though," she added. "I mean, it's very intellectual and enlightening ... and fun."

Claire smiled, getting a little excited herself that she would be in the class. She didn't think about the fact that she should be wishing she would be home _before _the class even started.

Xander made his way back to the table with drinks, setting them down on the table. "Hey, look who I found," he spoke, motioning to the girl walking behind him. "Buff, this is Claire, and ... well, I don't actually know who you are," Xander spoke, looking at Tara as he said the last bit.

Buffy smiled at Tara, thinking that he meant her when he said 'Claire', but when her eyes fell on Claire, her entire body stiffened. "You?"

Willow looked back and forth between the two. "Oh, have you guys met already?"

Claire's eyes moved all around the table, suddenly wishing that she'd just stayed cooped up with Sylar all night.

...

_End of chapter nine. _

_What did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_I'll try to keep up with the consistent updates, after today, I should be able to relax and get back to writing, just have to finish my online course stuff, and finish reading my book for another class. _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	10. Chapter 10

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Ten. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews so far! _

_Sorry this chapter took longer, but my bigger school assignments are done now, so I should have more time to focus on this. _

_Thanks to everyone who favorited/alerted this story. _

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

You know those moments when your whole body is frozen, and you know that you should either open your mouth and work the situation out verbally, or tuck tail and run for the hills ... but you just can't seem to get either messages to your brain? Well, Claire was having one of those moments. With everyone at the table staring between her and Buffy for some sort of explanation, and the other blonde girl looking at her with murder in her eyes, Claire knew that she had limited time to explain herself, or there was going to be a throw down. She knew she had to either say something, or run for the door, but she couldn't seem to find any words, or make her legs work well enough to scurry away.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Buffy asked her, and the mood of the table altered dramatically.

"What's wrong, Buffy?" Willow asked her friend, concern filling her eyes.

Buffy never took her eyes off of Claire. "This is the girl that I was telling you about. The dynamic duo that killed those Uber-Vamps the night those girls were killed."

Willow stood quickly from the table, looking at Claire in shock.

Claire closed her eyes for a moment. "I can explain."

The rest of the table inhabitants were suddenly on-guard, though Anya looked at her curiously. "Hmm ... I didn't get the "big bag evil" vibe from her. I must be losing my touch."

"I'm not evil," Claire promised. "I didn't attack those girls."

"No, you just opened the Hellmouth and brought this hell on us all," Buffy corrected.

Claire furrowed her brow in confusion. "Hellmouth? What is that?"

"Oh, don't act dumb," Buffy sneered.

Claire looked at each of them in turn, sad that their blossoming friendship seemed to be coming to an end. When her eyes fell on Tara, she expected the shy girl to be cowering behind Tara, but to her surprise, she was looking at her intensely, as though trying to read her.

"She's not lying," Tara spoke, mostly to Willow.

Willow walked forward to stand next to her. "What do you mean? How can you tell?"

Not relishing the idea of everyone's eyes being on her, Tara focused solely on Willow. "There's a certain ... vibe that evil beings generate. Especially ones powerful enough to ... unleash hell on Earth. She doesn't have this ... vibe."

"See! I told you!" Anya exclaimed triumphantly, smiling at Tara and Buffy.

"You can see her ... 'vibes'?" Willow asked, interested.

Tara nodded her head.

"How?"

"My mother ... she showed me how," Tara explained. She opened her mouth to tell her why, but thought better of it.

Willow looked from Claire to Tara. "Can you show me?"

Tara smiled softly. "It'll take a bit longer than I can show you right now."

"Okay, no offence Will, but I can't just take this at face-value. I know what I saw, and I know that whatever this chick is, she's not human," Buffy spoke.

Claire stood slowly from the table, knowing that the other girl wasn't going to believe her, no matter what she said. "I didn't do what you're accusing me of. So, if you don't mind, I'm just -"

"You're not going anywhere," Buffy told her, moving to stand in her way. She stopped suddenly, as though she were no longer in control of her own body. "What the -"

The sprinkler system suddenly came on, soaking the inhabitants of the club. The room was filled with gasps and shrieks, as everyone began grabbing their belongings and rushing out of the club.

Claire and the others looked around, aware that no alarm had been sounded to suggest a fire. Claire glanced towards the bar, seeing one man standing still while others rushed by him towards the exit. She was grateful for his intervention, but also slightly put-off by his method. Mostly, though ... she was grateful.

Buffy tried repeatedly to move her legs, arms, anything ... but she couldn't.

"Buffy, what's going on?" Willow asked her friend, worried.

Buffy glared at Claire. "Why don't you ask your new friend? This exact same thing happened to me the other night. Her guy had me held against a tree, and I couldn't move my own body."

Willow glanced back at Claire. "Are you doing this?"

Claire shook her head.

"Is he?" Willow asked next.

Claire pursed her lips, remaining silent.

When the rest of the club was evacuated, Sylar shut off the sprinklers and sealed the doors telekinetically, making his way over to Claire's side. They watched him walk over, most of them watching him with trepidation and fear. "I thought a little privacy might be in order," he spoke, mostly to Claire.

Claire nodded her thanks, glancing at the still struggling Buffy. "Could you ...?"

Sylar rolled his eyes in protest, but did as she wanted, releasing Buffy from his hold.

Her body sagged almost immediately, but quickly righted itself, years of defensive training coming into effect. "What are you?" Buffy snarled at Sylar, not liking the feeling of helplessness that came with not being able to move her body.

"Haven't we already had this conversation?" he wondered.

Willow shook her head at the two, looking at Claire with disappointment in her eyes. "Buffy was right ... you are evil."

"No, I'm not," Claire responded quickly. "Please, just let me explain."

"Did you open the Hellmouth?" Xander asked her.

"No!" Claire answered. "I don't even know what that thing is!"

Buffy stepped forward, eyeing Sylar before she did. "Well, why don't I refresh your memory? Those nasty, Uber-Vamps that your boyfriend here decapitated? They came from the Hellmouth. A giant seal separating us here on Earth, from an army of hellish creatures. You two show up in Sunnydale, and suddenly the Hellmouth is opened. Coincidence? Doubtful."

Claire shook her head. "We don't know anything about that. We're not exactly from around here ..."

Before she could continue, there was a loud banging on the front door. Someone had obviously figured out that the sprinkler system had been "tampered" with, and was now trying to break in through the door.

"As much as fun as this is, perhaps we should continue this conversation elsewhere?" Sylar suggested, keeping his hand trained on the door to stop it from caving under its strain.

Claire had to agree with him.

Willow worried her bottom lip, glancing between Buffy, Tara, and Claire. "Okay, look ... Buffy, you make a really good point, but I have to go with Tara on this one. If she says they're not evil ... I believe her."

Buffy stared at her in bewilderment. "I don't even know who this girl is, Willow. How do you know we can trust her?"

"Because I trust her," Willow clarified, leaving no room for doubt.

Claire thanked her silently, grabbing her bag off the table and slinging it over her shoulder. "We need to leave," she said to Sylar.

"Just because Willow says you're okay, doesn't mean you get to just leave," Buffy spoke up.

Sylar cocked an eyebrow in her direction, slowly raising his other hand. "And who - exactly - is going to stop us?"

Before he could use any of his abilities on her, Claire grabbed his hand, forcing it back down. "Sylar, no. They'll never trust us if we don't trust them."

"Can we make a decision, here?" Xander voiced, glancing at the door, where shouting could be heard over the sounds of the pounding. "'Cause I don't know about you, but I'd rather not be here when the cops arrive."

Buffy and Sylar stared each other down, while Claire glanced between Sylar, Buffy and Willow. It was good to know that Willow and Tara were somewhat on her side, and that Sylar seemed to have control over his powers, enough to be restraining himself from just killing them all.

"Fine. We go to Giles's," Buffy spoke finally.

"Giles?" Claire wondered.

"If what you're saying is true, then you won't mind proving it, will you?" Buffy asked her.

Claire debated for a moment, and then agreed. "Okay. We'll go with you."

Sylar looked down at her, turning the hand that she held so that he was now gripping her wrist. "Why? What makes you so certain that we need them?"

Claire met his eyes unwaveringly. "Just trust me, okay?"

There was a long moment, when the two of them just stared headlong at each other, until Xander cleared his throat. "So, uh ... backdoor, anyone?"

Claire snapped herself out of her reverie, nodding her head. "Yeah. Let's go."

Sylar waited with Claire while the others made their way out the back, keeping his hold on the front door until the very last minute.

...

The trip to Giles's apartment was increasingly awkward. No one wanted to turn their back on the other, so they ended up walking in almost a straight line, Claire and Sylar on one side, everyone else on the other, with Buffy between them. None of them spoke so much as a word on the way there, until they finally arrived at Giles's doorstep.

Buffy knocked, waiting for Giles to respond. When he finally did open the door, she silenced him with a hand. "You two wanna prove you're not evil. First step: step over that threshold without an invitation."

"Buffy, they're not vampires," Willow commented. "I've seen her outside during the day."

"Me too," Xander added.

"Just like Spike went outside when he was wearing the Ring of Amara?" Buffy added.

Claire furrowed her brow. "Spike's a vampire?"

"Who the hell is "Spike?" Sylar inquired.

"Someone calling me?" the vampire in question replied, stepping out from the area behind Giles's kitchen to peer out the doorway. "Ahh, it's the blood-bank, then?" Spike continued, glancing at Claire, before pulling open the fridge and grabbing a bag of blood.

"Um, excuse the interruption, but what exactly is going on here?" the man named Giles wondered.

Claire sighed, deciding to just get it done and over with. With a pointed look at Buffy, she walked to few steps to and over the threshold, coming to a stop beside the older man. "Satisfied?"

Buffy narrowed her eyes, looking away from Claire to look at Sylar.

With an exaggerated sigh, Sylar crossed over the doorway as well, making his way into the humble home. He smiled softly at Claire before turning to face the others.

Willow and Tara entered swiftly after, followed by Xander and Anya, and then Buffy finally entered the apartment as well.

"Okay, as exciting as that was, I'm still waiting for an explanation," Giles spoke.

Buffy closed the door behind her with a sigh. "Okay, so you're not vampires," she conceded. "Then what are you?"

"Evolved," Sylar answered.

"Yeah, I heard that already," Buffy replied. "How about clarifying?"

Claire debated whether or not they could afford to tell them the truth, but rationalized that if they didn't, they would never agree to help them. "We have these ... abilities," Claire began slowly.

"Like surviving a vampire attack without so much as a scratch?" Buffy wondered, pointing at Claire's exposed neck.

Claire brought a hand up to her neck, pursing her lips. "Like that."

Giles grew more interested now, squinting slightly as he regarded her. "How?"

Deciding to go for broke, Claire inquired, "Do you have something sharp I could use?"

Everyone looked at her warily.

Sylar rolled his eyes, raising his arm and flicking his fingers, summoning the large knife off the kitchen counter.

Everyone except Spike took a step back, while shock and amazement covered Giles's face. The older man whipped his glasses off his face quickly, staring between the two strangers in his home. "Buffy, what -?" He was shushed almost immediately, as everyone wanted to see what Sylar was going to do with the knife.

"Shall I?" he asked Claire, as though he were asking to open the door for her, or something akin to such a menial act.

Claire shrugged. "Why not?" Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered that she should probably be afraid, considering Sylar knew where her weak spot was, but she wasn't. She held her arms open slightly, baring herself for his attack.

Sylar's lips twitched lightly at the movement, and then his hand gripped the knife, bringing it up to stab deeply into her chest.

Gasps filled the room, along with Willow's shriek and Giles's shout of protest.

Sylar pulled the knife back out of her chest, waiting a couple seconds for it to heal.

When she was back together again - aside from the hole in her new shirt - Claire glanced back at the others. "I can't die," she explained.

Everyone was pretty much speechless, trying to wrap their minds around what they had just witnessed. It was Anya who finally opened her mouth. "So, what's his deal? Telekinesis?"

Claire nodded her head, bobbing it from side to side a bit. "He's ... a bit more complicated than that."

...

_End of chapter ten. _

_Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_Sorry for the long wait, stupid school work keeps getting in the way. _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	11. Chapter 11

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Eleven. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Wow! That last chapter had the most reviews out of all them! Thanks for all the awesome feedback, guys! You rock! _

_I'm so glad you guys are still enjoying this story. I might end this at 20 chapters, but I'm not completely certain yet. We'll see how the flow goes. _

_I'm going by the episode air-dates for the timeline, instead of trying to go through the series again to try and find the basic month that "Angels and Monsters" took place in. _

_Without too much ado, here's the next chapter!_

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Claire managed to sidetrack Sylar's entire "villainous" back-story, simply stating that his ability allowed him to encompass a wide variety of skills. They seemed to accept this as an answer, and Claire worked hard to keep any trace of animosity out of her voice. She didn't want them to get a "bad guy vibe" off of him, and choose not to help them get home.

Claire began thinking of that - the "bad guy vibe" that Tara had said she didn't have, by "scanning" her for evil. She assumed that the witch had done the same with Sylar when he made his presence known. Tara hadn't said anything, though, so Claire had to assume that she'd found no evil there.

She didn't know what to think about that. Could Sylar truly be reformed? Had he really changed? It had been such a short time since he'd attacked her in her home, had enough time really passed for him to be "good" now? But, really? What was the time limit on rehabilitation? Could she, as a once-victim, really be unbiased in her assessment of his character? In the time that they had been there, however brief it had been, he hadn't done anything to hurt her. Well ... except for that incident in the kitchen. But, he hadn't really seemed like himself then, either.

Claire busied herself with drying herself off with the towel that the man named Giles had provided each of them, leftover water from the sprinkler systems in the club coating her clothing. Everyone seemed to need some time to process things, and the room was mostly silent as they dried themselves off. Claire knew that the only way that they would be able to salvage any kind of relationship with Willow and Tara was to be completely honest, and trust that they would be willing to help them try and get home.

"So, this whole, 'not dying' thing ... what's that like?" Spike asked her.

Claire was a little wary for a moment, now that she knew that he was a vampire. But, she also rationalized, he seemed to be living with the older man, so he couldn't be all bad. "It's pretty ... bland, I guess," Claire replied.

"Seriously? You're immortal. How can that be bland?" the blonde vampire wanted to know.

"I'm going to watch everyone that I love die, and I'll still be exactly as I am now ... forever," Claire informed him. "Bland is an understatement."

Sylar watched the two interacting as he wiped his clothing, unsettled by the vampire's interest in Claire's abilities. He doubted the man would try anything with so many people around, but he didn't like that the vampire knew she was basically an endless supply of rich, human blood.

"Spike, don't make me gag you," Buffy interrupted, also uneasy about the two of them conversing.

"Promise?" Spike replied, throwing her a wink.

Buffy ignored the shiver that crawled up her back at the movement, telling herself that it was leftover side-effects from Willow's spell that had them convinced they were engaged. She turned her attention to Claire. "Okay, so you're not vampires, witches or demons ... just genetically empowered people? What brings you to Sunnydale?"

Claire met Sylar's eyes briefly, fiddling with the edge of the cotton towel. "That's a bit of a story."

"We've got time," Xander urged.

She looked back at Sylar, unconsciously seeking his consent to proceed.

Sylar gave her a silent look of approval, letting her know that she would do better explaining their situation than he would. He was too preoccupied with bottling down his hunger, and keeping his eyes off of the two witches and the blonde girl. His senses told him that they had stronger "powers" than the others, that there was something different about them. He forced himself to focus on Claire, having already acquired her power. He could look at her without wanting to slice her head off and have a poke around inside her brain. Of course, focusing on her allowed _other_ thoughts to seep into his mind, but at the moment, those thoughts were safer than the homicidal ones he was forcing down.

After a few moments of consideration, Claire began speaking. "My father works for this company. They're charged with ... keeping order, I guess you could say."

Sylar snorted beside her, but she ignored him.

"Not everyone who has these abilities are "good". Some use their abilities to do bad things, like stealing ... murder," she added, forcing herself to not glance in Sylar's direction. "When this happens, people like my father track them down and lock them in a facility."

Buffy nodded slowly, following along fairly well.

"I tried to show my father that I could help, and I tracked down one of the people who escaped from their facility," Claire continued. "He had the ability to create vortexes, make people disappear into them. He was put into the facility after he killed his neighbor." The others listening on made a few gasps of surprise, so Claire quickly pressed on. "He wasn't a bad person, he just didn't have control of his ability. He'd gotten upset during their argument, and it just happened. Some of these people have no idea what's happening to them, or even know how to control their own abilities. Some just get so power hungry, that they don't know any other way."

Buffy immediately thought of Faith, lying alone in a coma.

"Anyway, my father and his ... partner," Claire spoke, glancing at Sylar, who was watching her intently, "showed up to bring him back in. Canfield didn't want to go back to the facility, so he opened up a vortex and escaped. He didn't want to hurt us, he told me to hang onto something, but ... the pole I was holding broke, and then Sylar grabbed my arm, but the pull was too strong, and that's how we ended up here."

Giles blinked several times, staring at the two of them. "You traveled to Sunnydale through a vortex? From somewhere else in the world?"

Claire pursed her lips. "Well, that's the thing ... where we're from, it's not December of 2000."

They each furrowed their brows, trying to understand. Willow spoke up, "What do you mean?"

Sylar finally spoke up. "Before we went through the vortex, it was October 13th, 2008," he explained. "When we came through, it was December 18th, 2000. We've tried getting in touch with our past selves, but they don't seem to exist in this world."

"So, what you're saying is ..." Buffy began, but Willow took the reins.

"You're from an alternate universe?" the redhead asked, quirking her head at them with mixed feelings of confusion and fascination.

"That's the working theory," Claire agreed.

"You mean like, alternate realities and stuff?" Xander wondered.

Willow shook her head, looking over at her friend. "It couldn't be an alternate reality. Alternate realities diverge off of choices made in our everyday lives. They wouldn't cease to exist in an alternate reality, their lives would just be different. The world around them could have changed, but their past selves would still be in it."

Xander stared at her.

"They've more likely been transported to an alternate universe or dimension," Willow continued to hypothesize. "Did anything else come through the vortex with you?"

Claire thought back, remembering all the furniture that had been flying into the vortex before she and Sylar had been sucked in. None of it had been around them when they'd finally been spit out into this world. "No, actually." She looked up at Sylar. "There should have been ... pretty much all the furniture in Canfield's house went into the vortex, but we were the only things that came out."

Willow moved closer to Giles, discussing the possible ramifications of that.

"What? What does that mean?" Claire asked them. She met Sylar's eyes, trying to see if he was making a connection that she wasn't, but seemed to be deep in thought.

Willow finally turned back to them, looking at Sylar this time, instead of Claire. "Do you possess the same ability that Claire does?"

Sylar blinked, uneasy about answering the question.

"Yes, he does," Claire replied instead. "Why does that matter?"

Giles answered, following Willow's train of thought. "Well, vortexes or portals, in themselves, are unstable at best. For this man to have use of such a complicated and fantastical ability, it's understandable to assume that it wouldn't be entirely secure. Physical materials, such as the furniture that you spoke of, would have been destroyed in the vortex. If that is so, which we can rightly assume because you say it didn't come out when you did, then it's only rational to assume that you should have died in the vortex as well. Your ability ... you must regenerate your damaged tissue? Nearly instantaneous repair?"

Claire nodded.

"This ability is probably the only reason you survived the vortex," Giles explained. "Your body couldn't be completely destroyed by the vortex. This is truly fascinating."

Claire wasn't sure she was appreciating this discovery on the same level that the other two were, but she kept her impatience in check. "So, do you think that you can figure out a way to send us back?" she asked. "We've been researching time travel, teleportation, alternate universes, and witchcraft, trying to find a way to get us back home."

Willow glanced from Giles to Tara. "Well, I can't guarantee anything, but I'll certainly see what I can do."

"We'll need as much data as possible," Giles told them. "Anything you can tell us about the conditions of the vortex, what happened as you were going through, what the physical environment was like when you entered the vortex, as well as exited."

Claire and Sylar relayed as much information as they could, noting the differences in time, night and day, the seemingly never-ending pull of the vortex, the earthquake that happened shortly after, even their bodies regenerating after they made contact with the ground.

"Wait, the earthquake happened right after you came through the vortex thing?" Buffy asked.

Claire thought back to that night, nodding her head. "Why is that important?"

Buffy gave Giles a pointed look, placing her hands on her hips. "That's when the Hellmouth opened. Somehow, this vortex pulled it open!"

Giles shook his head after a moment. "I don't think it's really that simple, Buffy."

Willow's face took on a thoughtful expression. "Well, maybe it is. I mean, how much do we really know about the Hellmouth? Other than it separates the big, bad, evil guys from us? What if the temporal flux created by the vortex opening, somehow created enough paranormal energy that the seal was broken, however temporarily? Is that possible?" she asked Giles.

Giles considered that. "I'll have to look into it more ... but, maybe."

"Ugh, research," Xander complained, moving into the kitchen in search of a soda.

"So, you're saying that our coming here might have opened this Hellmouth?" Claire wondered.

Buffy sighed, dropping her head into her hands. "That's exactly what we're saying. And now, we have no way of knowing just how many Uber-Vamps - or anything else - escaped while it was open."

...

Claire and Sylar finally returned to their place around two in the morning, after walking back to the Bronze for their car. They had been up for hours with the others, trying to find a solution - both to their problem, and the more prominent one facing the inhabitants of Sunnydale. Intentional or not, their trip through the vortex seemed to have opened a window into hell, and Claire knew that they would have to help deal with the consequences of that. They'd given the others their contact information, letting them know that they would continue their own research, and get in touch with them if they found anything.

Buffy had mentioned setting up a patrol "team" of sorts, wanting to utilize Sylar's abilities to kill the Uber-Vamps. He hadn't protested, but Claire had noticed his relative silence throughout the evening.

They'd been given a crash-course on the facts vs. myth of vampires, including which weapons were most effective in killing them. Buffy had also noted that while her stake seemed to have little effect on the vampire from the other night, Sylar's decapitation had worked fine, something she'd been both pleased and perturbed by.

Claire made her way up the steps, glancing at Sylar who was still at the foot of the steps, seemingly lost in thought. "It looks like we might have a chance at getting home," Claire commented, turning on the step she had paused on.

Sylar nodded his head silently.

"Well ... goodnight," she added, wondering at his behavior, but not wanting to draw attention to it. Claire could tell something was off, but she didn't know what. She made her way into her room, closing the door behind her. She locked it after a second, even though she knew that if Sylar wanted to get into her room, a lock would be nothing more than a half-second's hindrance. She changed out of her mildly stiff clothing, slipping into her sleepwear and sliding under her covers. It was late, but she couldn't seem to get her mind to stop working.

Now that Willow knew about them, they didn't have to lie anymore. Claire wondered if she would still attend the courses she'd signed up for - if they would still be there that long - now that Willow and Tara were aware of their situation. She didn't have to try and get close to the girl anymore, so she didn't have to lie and say she was a transfer student. They might even get this all sorted out before winter break was over, and then it wouldn't even be an issue.

Claire sighed, placing her hands behind her head as she sank into the pillows. She'd been getting a little bit excited about attending college, even though it was supposed to have been a ruse.

After tossing and turning for a little over a half an hour, she decided to run downstairs and grab her laptop, thinking she could pass the time by surfing the internet for a bit. Counting sheep just wasn't what it used to be.

As she descended the stairs, she saw that all the lights were off except for the ones in the living room. Frowning, she moved into the room, seeing the lamp in the corner turned on. It lit the room dimly, but allowed her enough light to see the figure sitting in the middle of the room.

"Sylar?" she asked, wondering why he was just sitting on the floor. With a familiar feeling of the little hairs at the back of her neck rising, she moved around him, seeing that his eyes were closed, and his body was still, neither rigid nor slacked. Just upright. She thought that he might be meditating or something, and didn't want to disrupt him like she'd done the other night - when he'd lunged at her and trapped her against the ground. Claire didn't speak again, simply moving to the chair and picking up her laptop. She started towards the stairs, but then changed her mind, turning back to the living room and sitting down carefully on the couch. She couldn't explain why, but she wanted to see more of what Sylar was doing. She wanted to understand more about him.

Claire leaned against the arm of the couch, bringing her knees up to rest the laptop on as she worked. Mostly, though, she watched him.

Sylar didn't move except for the in-and-out motions his chest made as he breathed. He didn't speak, he didn't scratch an insufferable itch, he didn't appear to be sleeping ... he just sat there.

About an hour into the process of her watching him over the screen of her laptop, Claire noticed a definite movement from him. His body twitched ... not like he was spasming, but as though he was suddenly jolted with something. His body tensed, and it seemed to her as though he were fighting for something. His body was moving, but then it was snap back into place, as though he were struggling against himself.

Claire gripped the sides of the laptop on her knees, slowly lowering it down to the cushioned seat in front of her. She didn't want a repeat of what happened in the kitchen, but she could also sense that something was wrong. She leaned forward on the couch, trying to get a better view of his face. As she carefully crawled to the other half of the couch, she saw that his forehead was breaking out in a sheen of sweat, and his hands were gripping his legs so tightly that his knuckles were white. She chewed lightly on her bottom lip, wondering if she should try to wake him up from his meditative state.

His body continued to shake and tremble, and his hands were digging into his legs to roughly that she thought he might draw blood soon.

Claire cleared her throat, trying to slowly bring him out of it. When that didn't work, she spoke his name aloud. "Sylar, wake up."

Nothing.

It took a few seconds to muster up the courage, but she eventually got up from the couch and moved around in front of him. She kept a fair amount of distance between them, nearly pressing herself against the fireplace mantle. "Sylar," she repeated, a little louder this time.

His neck tensed with the rest of his body, his chin dipping down slightly as though he might have heard her, and was straining to hear more.

"Sylar, open your eyes," she tried next.

His body continued to strain against some invisible force, not responding to her calls.

Clenching her jaw, Claire took a couple steps forward, preparing herself to spring back immediately if he should awaken. She tentatively lifted her arm, reaching her hand out to touch his shoulder briefly. "Sylar," she spoke, prodding his shoulder and then backing off.

His body froze all of a sudden, not even moving to draw breath. It was poised, immobile.

Claire blinked, staring at him for a moment before dropping slowly to a crouching position. "Sylar?" she whispered, not wanting to shock or surprise him. She heard what sounded like a growl coming from deep within his throat, and barely had time to adjust her footing before he lunged up from his position, knocking her backwards. Claire shrieked in surprise, quickly rolling away from him and jumping to her feet. "Stop!" she called out.

Sylar stood up from the floor, following her with his eyes.

Through her fear, Claire noticed that his eyes weren't the deep orbs that she was used to, but glazed over ... as though he was in a trance. She told herself that he wasn't aware of what he was doing ... that it was some kind of hallucination or hypnotic trance. She'd snapped him out of it before, she would just have to do it again. "Sylar, stop," she told him, holding her hands out in front of her.

He followed her swiftly, pinning her up against the far wall.

Claire struggled against him, her entire body squirming and wiggling, until she finally got one hand free. She slapped him a couple times, once on his shoulder and once across his cheek. "Snap out of it!" she yelled into his ear.

He didn't seem to hear her, his snarling face drawing closer to hers.

Wrenching her arm about, she swung until her elbow collided with his jaw, pressing herself back against the wall and trying to escape.

Suddenly, his body sagged, falling against her as though a great weight had just been released. His breathing was quick and labored, uneven and ragged.

"Sylar?" Claire muttered quietly, holding herself stiff against the wall.

His body tensed again, and then his head raised slowly. "Claire?" he asked, seeming to be unaware of how he'd gotten to be where he was.

"You awake in there?" she asked him, trying to meet his eyes. Finally, they were the darkened, penetrating orbs that she was used to seeing.

"What ... did I hurt you?" he asked, surprising Claire.

After a tense moment, she answered, "I can't get hurt, remember?"

Sylar shook his head, dropping it down against the wall, effectively keeping her trapped between him and the wall. "I can't fight it, Claire."

She furrowed her brow, unsure if she should push him away or stay completely still. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

"I can't keep fighting the hunger," he explained. "It's too strong. Being around those girls, with their power ... I wanted to take it so badly," he confessed, all the while keeping her trapped against the wall. "I can't fight it."

Claire blinked, swallowing a lump of air in her throat. "Y-yes you can," she told him, struggling to believe it herself. "You've been fighting it."

"I can't keep it up. I'm gonna snap, and people are going to die," Sylar told her. He was silent for a long moment, and then he exhaled in a long breath. "You have to stop me."

"What?" Claire asked.

"Before I kill again ... you have to stop me."

Claire shook her head. "Stop being so dramatic," she argued. "You'll be fine. We'll be out of here before you know it."

He growled again in response, and Claire felt his hands come up to grip her arms. "Do you want me to hurt you?"

Claire froze.

"If anyone could find a way to make you feel pain, it's me, Claire. You know it. Eventually, I'm not gonna be able to stop myself," he said in a dark voice.

Claire shook her head. "You already have my power, Sylar ... there's nothing else you need from me," she reasoned. "You won't hurt me." She wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him, or herself.

He pressed his head down slightly, bringing it to rest fully on her shoulder. "What makes you think your power is the only thing I'm hungry for?" he asked her. "I am a man, after all."

Claire felt her heart rate speed up exponentially, her body flushing red. "You wouldn't ..."

"I can't fight it, Claire," he repeated. "I can't fight it ... you have to stop me."

"Sylar ..."

"I can't fight it!" he hollered, shaking her body in a quick jolt against the wall.

Claire closed her eyes, desperately trying to figure out what to do.

...

_End of chapter eleven. _

_Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_I know, ANOTHER cliffhanger ... I'm evil that way. _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	12. Chapter 12

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Twelve. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews so far! You guys are awesome! _

_I'll respond to some reviews here: _

_**Gamebird: **__Thanks for the review(s)! I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I definitely won't be doing the Spike-chip-implant with Sylar, though the idea did give me a good chuckle. _

_**scifigeek10:**__ Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're liking this story, and took the time to review. Yes, Sylar and Claire will be a couple in this story. I hope you keep enjoying this story! _

_**aclassicistkitten:**__ Thanks for the review(s)! I'm glad you liked the end scene, it was fun to write (as will the next part be). I know that I've been writing Buffy fairly bitchy. Since I haven't included Riley in this story, I'm having her showing some post-break-up (though they weren't officially a couple in this story) annoyance and frustration, and taking it out on Sylar and Claire was only natural up to this point, because she thought they were the bad guys. I'll be slowing bringing down her level of bitchiness, so that I can work in the Spike/Buffy pairing. Thanks again for the review, I'm glad you're still enjoying this story! _

_**CrazySue05:**__ Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Don't worry, I haven't lost interest in this story. I've reached the second half of my semester, where the big assignments are coming due, and we're doing a lot of reading/exam prep. I'm trying not to get too bogged down with it all, and trying to find a balance between school and fanfic - fanfic usually wins out, and then I'm up 'til four in the morning doing last-minute school work, as I did with my book report assignment. Anywhoo ... thanks again for the review, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! _

_**Emlou86:**__ Thanks for the review! I'm glad you gave the story a chance, even though you were unsure of it at first, and ever more pleased that you like it! I'll check the last chapter again for any typos that I missed - it's usually stuff like "he" instead of "she", or other typos that happen when I'm typing too fast. If you notice any major ones, don't be shy about pointing them out - I HATE typos! Thanks again for the review, I hope you enjoy the next chapter!_

_**ravynsprt:**__ Thanks for the great review(s)! I'm toying with the idea of having Spike and Sylar get close ... I'll probably decide as I'm writing this chapter or the next one, we'll see. In regards to Sylar's hunger ... I don't wanna give too much away, so I'll just say: yes, BUT I won't tell you which guess was right. Hehehe. Thanks again for the review, I'm so glad you're liking this story! _

_**Everyone else:**__ Thanks so much for the awesome reviews, you guys rock! _

_Alrighty, that's enough out of me, let's get on with the story!_

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

"I don't want to hurt you, Claire," Sylar spoke quietly against the skin the of her shoulder. "Kill me."

Claire shook her head. "No."

"Kill me, or I won't be able to stop what I do to you," he told her, his neck dropping a fraction of an inch more until his lips were pressed against her skin.

Claire swallowed heavily. "Sylar, don't. You can stop this, just try."

His teeth dragged sharply against her skin before he pulled back and looked at her. "You think I haven't been trying? You think that I can just turn it off like a switch? You think I can just decide one day that I'm going to be a good guy, and not feel the urge to kill anymore? To know more?"

Claire clenched her jaw. "Then you're not trying hard enough."

Sylar snarled sharply, bringing his left hand up to the top of her head to pull her face to the side, leaning closer so that his hot breath trickled into her ear. "You have no notion of just how hard I've been trying," he informed her, breathing in her scent in a long inhale when he was finished speaking. "I can't fight it anymore, Claire. Kill me, or I'll hurt you."

Claire bit her bottom lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. "No."

"Don't be so noble," he bit back at her. "You don't need me to get home, you've got _them_. Just do it." He dug into his pocket, pulling out an army knife. Where he had gotten it, and why, Claire didn't know. "Shove this into my neck."

Claire still shook her head. "No."

Growling, he let go of her head and grabbed her right wrist, shoving the knife into her upturned and unwilling hand. "Do it."

Claire dropped the knife, hearing it clank to the floor. "No."

Sylar merely retrieved it with his powers, placing it in her hand again and telekinetically holding her trembling digits around it. He watched as her body quaked lightly with fear and trepidation, a sight which was not entirely unpleasing to him. With his right hand, he moved her hair back behind her neck, baring the skin there to him. Not an inch of her skin was imperfect in any way, a truly fascinating occurrence. Though he'd understood and acquired her ability, he was years - probably centuries - away from understanding her. What drove her, what motivated her ... what made her _tick_. At that thought, he closed the distance between her neck and his face, pressing his lips delicately against the skin just under her ear. Her resounding shiver made him grin ever so slightly.

"Don't," Claire whispered, not wanting to kill him. In any other moment, she would have been marveling at the progression of their relationship to the point where she didn't want to kill him. There was still that part of her that wanted to pound on him, to make him suffer for what he had done to her ... but it was getting smaller and smaller every day.

"Kill me," he urged, even as his lips continued to burn a path on her skin.

Was he doing this because he knew it was the one thing that would disgust her enough to kill him? Was he doing it because he couldn't control himself? Was he doing it simply because he wanted to, and knew that she wouldn't kill him? These questions whipped through Claire's mind so fast, she barely had time to process them, let alone come up with an answer.

"Kill me," he repeated, his left hand drifting down to the hem of her shirt, his fingers sliding under the material and dragging lightly across her skin.

Claire closed her eyes, trying to will herself away to any other place. Kill Sylar, who had done all that he could to get them both back home, or let him live, and quite possibly suffer some sort of sexual assault?

"Kill me," he spoke again, pressing his body even closer to hers - if that was at all possible.

Claire's eyes widened at the feeling of something decidedly _hard_ pressing against her lower stomach, and all of her doubts over his seriousness evaporated.

"Don't make me do this," Claire almost begged, tears sliding down her cheeks as her hand gripped the knife tighter, with no assistance from his abilities.

Sylar spoke again, his head turning away from her neck to move closer to the front of her face, near her lips. This time he didn't say "kill" ... it sounded much more like "kiss".

Claire whimpered as his lips touched hers, and a second later the knife was imbedded in the back of his head, right on the weak spot.

His eyes snapped open in shock, and he remained upright for a fraction of a moment, staring at a stop somewhere over her shoulder. Then he crumpled towards the ground, his body lying motionless.

Claire breathed heavily, her hand coming up to her mouth as she stared down at his body. A few more tears spilled from her eyes before she wiped them away with the back of her hand, pushing herself away from the wall and moving into the middle of the living room. She wrapped her arms around herself, her mind whirling about and thinking a thousand thoughts a second. What was she going to do? Should she leave him there? Should she move him somewhere? Was she actually going to _leave_ him dead? Should she find some way to restrain him, and then pull the knife out? What would stop him from repeating the process all over again? He'd _wanted_ her to kill him ... didn't that show - on some level - just how much he'd changed, how far he'd come? Maybe she didn't need him to get home, but what about until then? Everything that they had, all the progress that they'd made in the last week had been because of him. Because of his abilities. The house, the car, the books, the computers ... even the clothes on her back ... it was all because of one of Sylar's abilities. He could have killed her if he wanted to, now that he knew about the sweet spot at the back of the head. He could have killed her in her sleep, if he'd wanted to, or used his powers on her if he wanted to taunt her. He hadn't. The only time he'd ever "taken advantage" of her had been in the last five minutes, and even then it had only been to ensure that she would kill him.

Claire couldn't deal with it all ... she wanted to stick a pillow over her face and scream until she was blue in the face.

Sylar was a killer, she should _want_ him dead. Why didn't she?

Claire didn't know what to do ... if she were in her world, she would call her father, or maybe Peter. But, she couldn't do that now. She only had ... Claire nearly slapped her hand to her forehead in realization, and bolted for the phone.

...

Claire opened the door almost immediately after the first knock, desperate for assistance.

"Hi," Willow spoke carefully, hesitant to enter.

"Thank you for coming," Claire replied. "I didn't know who else to call."

Willow carefully stepped into the house. "I wasn't sure I was going to, especially when you asked me to come alone."

Claire nodded in understanding, closing the door behind her. "I know, I'm sorry. I just ... I didn't want you to bring Buffy. I get the feeling that she'd react too quickly, without trying to find a way to fix this."

Willow nodded, understanding. "Buffy's not so bad," she defended. "But, you're not wrong. She's on the fence about Sylar as it is."

Claire led her into the living room, where she had managed to move Sylar away from the wall, and laid out evenly on his front.

Willow's eyes widened at the sight of the knife in the back of his head, looking from Sylar to Claire. "Is he ...?"

"For now, he's dead," Claire admitted. She was nervous about disclosing the location of their weak spots, but it wasn't as though she could hide it at the moment. "If I take the knife out, he'll heal."

Willow nodded slowly, pursing her lips. "Okay. Tell me everything, and I'll see what I can do."

Claire spent about a half hour explaining everything that she knew about Sylar, about his abilities, and what he does to get those abilities. She tried not to make it seem so horrible ... but really, when you're discussing a psychotic serial killer, there's only so many smiley faces you can plaster over it. She put emphasis on how he hadn't killed anyone - except vampires - since they'd been in this world, and how it really seemed as though he was trying to change. She couldn't explain for the life of her why she was defending him, she just knew that she couldn't live with herself if he died - permanently - because of her. She couldn't when it was Brady, and she still couldn't with Sylar.

Claire finished finally, waiting for Willow to respond. She'd been quiet throughout Claire's entire monologue, listening intently. She thought the girl might suggest that they leave him as he was, or demand that she be allowed to bring in Buffy. What she did say, however, surprised Claire completely.

"I understand," Willow told her. "Maybe not exactly what you're going through, and what he _did_. But ... see, Buffy used to date this guy. He was a vampire," Willow began.

Claire's eyes widened in surprise.

Willow held her hand up. "He was nearly two-hundred-and-fifty years old, and he was different from other vampires. See, when vampires are turned, they lose their soul. They still have their memories and to a certain extent, their personalities, but their soul is gone. All that's left is a monster that's hungry for blood. Angel was an exception ... his soul was returned to him by gypsies around a hundred years ago. It changed him, made him remorseful over everything that he had done. He stopped drinking human blood, stopped killing people, and started trying to help them. He was a good person, even though he was undead."

Claire sat forward on the couch, intrigued by what Willow was telling her. "So, what happened to him? They're not together anymore? Did he ... did she kill him?"

Willow shook her head. "No. Well ... sort of, but it wasn't permanent," Willow replied. "That's a whole other story. He wanted Buffy to be able to live a normal life, and knew that she couldn't with him in it. So, he left. He knew that there were things that he couldn't give her ... like going for a walk in the daylight, or growing old together."

"So, he really was _good_?" Claire clarified.

Willow nodded her head in affirmation. "Yes he was. And considering how protective of you Sylar seems to be, I'd say he can be, too."

Claire glanced at the body lying on the floor. "I'm not so sure about that."

Willow eyed her purposefully. "These abilities ... do they take away his soul?"

Claire blinked, thinking that over. "I don't know. I mean, I don't think so. I don't see how they would."

"Then the capacity for good is still there," Willow informed her. "Tell me more about his _hunger_."

Talking about this with Willow made Claire realize just how little she knew about Sylar. She didn't know where he came from, she didn't know much about him personally. All of her information about him was biased by fear and first impressions. "I think it's basically what drives him to kill. His ability ... he understands everything, or at least can understand things that normal people aren't able to. He can figure out people's powers and then retrieve them from their brains. The hunger ... I guess he's never really tried to control it. Or maybe he hasn't gone this long without a "kill" since he discovered his ability. I don't really know." She felt so uninformed.

Willow stood up from the chair, nodding as she thought that over. "Okay ... well, I think it's safe to say that you want to give him a chance, right?"

Claire didn't answer right away.

"I mean, you called me over here. You're conflicted. You didn't want to kill him, but it was the only way to stop him in the moment, right?"

Claire nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, I may not know a whole lot about him, but it does look like he was controlling his hunger to some extent," Willow reasoned. "We just need to figure out what triggers the hunger, or at least what helps him push back the hunger. If he can hold it back long enough to work out a way to get back to your world ..." She trailed off, realizing that wasn't exactly a solution. All it would do would postpone the problem until it was thrust onto another world.

"I get what you mean," Claire spoke, picking up her thought. "If he can figure out how to bottle down his hunger, then maybe he really can turn things around. So, how do we do it?"

Willow glanced at Sylar. "We're going to have to wake him up."

...

Sylar was restrained, but Claire didn't know how effective it would be. His hands and legs were tied to a chair from the kitchen, and his fingers were taped into fists and secured to the chair with duct tape. Short of drugging him up, Claire didn't know what else to do to hold him. Even if they could find drugs powerful enough to hold him down, the purpose of waking him up was to converse with him, and work a way through the situation, and Claire knew they couldn't do that with him unconscious.

Willow waited in the kitchen while Claire removed the knife from Sylar's head, not wanting to stir up the "beast" as soon as he revived by dangling "fresh meat" in front of him.

Claire wiped the blood off the knife while she waited for him to revive, sitting in another chair across from him, a few feet away.

When he was fully healed, his eyes opened, and he glanced around. The first thing that he noticed was that he couldn't move his arms and legs. Sylar lifted his head to meet her eyes. "What did you do?"

Claire carefully folded her hands into her lap, easing herself into a state of security. "We need to talk."

His body tensed, muscles straining against the bonds. "You stupid, naive child," he gritted out viciously.

Claire sighed slowly. "I'm not a child."

"Right now, you are," he replied. "You think that this is a game? You think that you can just paint a pretty picture on it, and everything will be sunshine and daisies? I'm a monster, it is all that I am. Now kill me, or I'm gonna do worse to you."

Claire glanced towards the kitchen, remembering that Willow had told her to be strong. She thought of Angel, and everything that he'd gone through, and willed herself to believe that Sylar could overcome it. "You're not a monster."

Sylar blinked, staring at her. Never in a million years would he have honestly believed those words to leap from her lips. He narrowed his eyes after a moment. "You don't believe that."

Claire chewed on her lip. Lying to him would get her nowhere. "Maybe not, but I'm still saying it anyway."

Sylar shook his head, struggling against his bonds. He was confident that he could carefully remove the duct tape without full use of his hands ... if that happened, he would show Claire that he was serious. "I don't want to be ruled by my hunger, Claire. If I kill, it's because I want to ... but lately? I can't control it. I'm a slave to nothing and no one, dammit. Just kill me." He tilted his head at her, trying to appeal to the humanitarian in her. "It'll bring me peace."

Claire leaned forward in her chair, separating her legs and placing her elbows on her knees. "Well, then I guess you're just out of luck. Bringing you peace isn't exactly on my To-Do list."

Sylar jolted in his chair, evidently trying to lunge at her, but his movements were restricted.

Claire changed tactics, standing up from her chair to move around the living room while she spoke. "Why now, Sylar? What happened tonight to bring this on?"

"I told you, I just can't fight it anymore," he answered.

Claire shook her head. "I'm not buying it. You're the mighty, all-powerful _Sylar_. There's nothing that you can't do, right? Nothing holds you back? Twice, now, I've walked in on you in some kind of meditative trance. What were you doing?" she wanted to know.

Sylar stared back at her, looking too much like a petulant child refusing to eat his dinner.

"I've got all night," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sylar rolled his eyes, working the tape in his hands. "It's a method that your grandmother was trying to teach me to control my hunger. Completely relax my body into a meditative state, forcing all thoughts - good and bad - out of my mind. Apparently, it's still in the Beta-Testing phase."

Claire smirked momentarily at the joke, before refocusing on her next question. "Who was trying to get in your head?"

Sylar froze, ceasing his struggles momentarily. "What?"

"The first time," Claire reminded him. "In the kitchen, when I snapped you out of your trance ... you said that I wasn't getting into your head this time, and that you knew what I was doing ... trying to turn you into a weapon? Who were you talking to? Who did you think I was?"

Sylar looked away. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does," Claire insisted. "Answer the question."

More layers of tape were carefully removed from his wrists, and Sylar answered the question, if only to distract her. "Elle Bishop."

Claire blinked in surprise, not expecting to hear that name. "What does she have to do with anything?"

Sylar smirked with false humor. "What, you think I just woke up one day and decided to go on a mass killing spree? Sorry to disappoint you, but I had a little help in that department."

Claire sat back down in her chair, listening intently. "Go on."

Sylar sighed, splitting his focus between Claire, and his bonds. "After my first kill ... Brian Davis ... I tried to kill myself. I couldn't live with what I'd done, and I made up and noose and hung myself in my shop. Elle came in and nuked the rope, saving my life."

Claire's brow furrowed, taking the information in.

"She said that she was there to get a watch fixed, she pretended to be my friend ... more than my friend," he admitted, not entirely sure why he was sharing any of this with her. It wasn't as though he needed to be honest with her, if he was only trying to distract her from freeing himself of the tape. "She introduced me to a man with an ability, to see what I would do. She pushed and prodded me, until finally I grew jealous enough to attack him. Then she showed me her powers. She showed me just how she'd been manipulating me. On some level, I think the monster in me excited her. She wanted me to be bad, she liked the psychopath in me ... probably because she was a little psychotic herself." Sylar laughed bitterly. "I guess us sociopaths just have a way of finding each other."

Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd never really thought of Sylar as a person before he started killing. She'd never thought of him having a regular job, of him having any kind of life before he'd come after her. Now she saw it in a whole new light. She inhaled a large amount of air, letting it loose in a long, drawn out sigh. "You can fight this, Sylar. You can push back the hunger. You've been doing it."

He shook his head. "We're back to this again? Why don't you see, Claire? It's who I am ... that's never going to change."

Claire glanced at the kitchen, noticing Willow poking her head out and pointing towards Sylar. More specifically, to his hands tied behind the chair. Claire pulled the knife back out of her pocket, glad that she'd put on jeans while Sylar had been "dead". She moved over to him, noticing him pause his movements as she drew closer with the sharp instrument. His eyes seemed to ask her if she'd finally decided to believe him, but his lips didn't make a sound. Giving him a pointed look, Claire leaned over him and brought the knife to his almost uncovered hands, severing the tape in the middle. She backed away slowly, noticing the look of surprise on his face. "I know you can fight this, Sylar. You just have to want to. Maybe that's 'naive' of me, I don't know ... and I really don't care. Right now, I need you to be strong. I need you to get your head on straight, and focus. Aside from needing to get back home, we've unleashed an unknown amount of undead creatures on this town, and that needs to be dealt with." Claire tossed him the knife from where she stood. "Now, you can take that knife and stab yourself in the head with it - or you can grow a pair, and face this hunger head-on. What's it gonna be?"

Sylar stared from her to the knife, his mind racing. After a seemingly endless minute, he silently released himself from the rest of his restraints, standing up from the chair. He towered over Claire now that he was standing, his dark eyes boring into hers as the knife shifted in his hand.

Claire held her ground, unwilling to look away from her. She wondered if Willow was lending her some of her strength, because she'd never felt so assured of anything, though the feeling defied logic.

Finally, Sylar flung the knife, imbedding it in the wall behind Claire. "Fine. But any innocent blood that I spill is on you."

Claire restrained herself from sighing in relief. "We'll see," she replied. She motioned for Willow to come out of the kitchen. "Now ... let's get to work."

...

_End of chapter twelve. _

_Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	13. Chapter 13

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Thirteen. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far, guys. You rock! _

_Not too much to add in this author's note, other than to express my happiness that you guys are still enjoying this story. _

_Here's the next chapter!_

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Claire wasn't entirely sure she was comfortable with this - well, that was an understatement. She was pretty sure she'd rather be somewhere else, rather than inches away from Sylar as he stared deep into her eyes, desperately awaiting a response.

They had quickly discovered that Sylar had been using Claire as his focal point - his distraction from the hunger that he felt whenever he was around those with powers, such as Willow. Willow had brought up how Sylar had been staring at Claire most of the time they were at Giles's place, how his jaw would clench whenever he happened to look at her, Tara, or Buffy, and then he would quickly return his attention to Claire.

Though Claire was uneasy about it, she agreed that if it kept his hunger bottled down, then it would be worth the effort to try and use that to their advantage.

So far, it had worked for him to just focus all of his attention on her ... shutting everything out except for her. But neither of them were certain that would last for very long, and it wasn't very successful when Willow was in the room with them. Not to mention, if they were in a combat situation, and his hunger overpowered him, it wouldn't do well to just stop what he was doing and stare at her.

Sylar's confession had come to a surprise to Claire. When it came to her, his hunger was slightly more focused. With normal, everyday people, he had a mild curiosity. For people with abilities, he needed to know how their powers worked, and then he took them. But with Claire ... he wanted - _needed_ - to know everything about her. He needed to understand her, he needed to know what drove her to do the things that she did. What she cared about, and why. What she loved, what she hated ... it all fascinated him, and he needed to know more.

So, there they stood, Sylar waiting for an answer to his question.

Claire sighed. "Blue," she stated. "Sometimes green."

Sylar quirked his eyebrow in interest. "Why does it change?"

"Depends on my mood," Claire answered honestly. "Blue when I'm feeling good, green when I'm annoyed or angry."

Sylar smirked. "And I would have pegged your favorite color as pink."

Claire snorted dryly. "Goes to show how much you know about me."

Sylar nodded. "Well, it looks like that's about to change, doesn't it?"

"Let's just see if it works, first?" Claire suggested, jutting out her chin defiantly. "Willow, come back out."

The redhead came out from her hiding spot in the storage cupboard under the stairs, holding the taser Claire had given her to use.

This was their fourth attempt, and so far, Sylar had been unable to control his hunger. Claire really didn't want to have to stab him again, and start the process all over.

Flaring his nostrils, Sylar inhaled sharply. He turned, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he opened them again, setting his sights on Willow. His fingers twitched almost immediately in response, but he forced the desire away, reigning in his urge to go after her. He groaned slightly at the effort, and then spoke, "I've got it."

Willow kept the taser in her hand, just in case.

"Okay, good," Claire spoke from behind him. "Now look at her, but focus on me; focus on my voice."

Sylar nodded once. Staring at the nervous redhead, Sylar asked Claire, "What's the worst pain you've ever felt?"

Claire paused, unsure about answering. When she saw his feet inch closer to Willow, she answered, "When you cut my head open. That was the worst pain I ever felt ... and the last time I ever felt pain."

"Do you miss it?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. He still wanted to hear her say it ... even if all he could do was offer an apology that she likely wouldn't believe.

"Feeling pain? Yes. It was the one thing that made me feel normal ... human," she answered.

"I'm sorry," Sylar told her.

Claire clenched her jaw, not responding. A part of her believed him, but she wasn't quite ready to forgive him. "How's the hunger?" she asked him.

"It's ... manageable," Sylar answered, studying Willow. Though the want for her power was still in there, the need to hear Claire tell him more about herself was far stronger.

"Good," Claire replied. She glanced at the clock, noticing that it was just about five o'clock in the morning. "I think that's enough for now. Willow, you should probably get back.

Willow nodded, more than a little fatigued.

They walked together to the front door, Sylar going to wait in the kitchen. "Thanks for this. I think it really helped."

Willow nodded. "I'm glad. I won't say I'm not a little nervous about it, but I hope that this works."

Claire couldn't agree more. "Look, I know we already went over this, but -"

"I won't tell Buffy," Willow interrupted, "unless I have to. As long as he keeps it under control, the less everyone else knows, the better."

"Thanks," Claire told her.

"You're welcome," Willow replied. She looked at her watch again. "Wow, I really should be getting back. Um ... I'll talk to Buffy about the slaying teams, make sure that you and Sylar are paired up."

Claire smiled softly at her. "Thanks."

Willow glanced towards the kitchen. "Take care of yourself."

Looking down at the knife in her pocket, Claire replied, "I'll be fine." She closed the door after Willow left, taking a deep breath before turning and heading for the kitchen. She found him staring at the sink, a glass of water on the counter next to the sink, half drank.

"You know, there's a flaw in this plan," he told her without turning around.

"What's that?"

"Eventually, I'm gonna find out everything there is to know about you," he informed her. "What happens when I get bored?"

Claire crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the doorway into the kitchen. "Well, I guess I'll just have to do my best to keep you interested."

Sylar wondered if Claire was so innocent that she didn't realize the effect that some of her word choices had on him. He turned around against the sink, sliding the glass into his hands for something to do. "Look, I'm ... about before ..."

"It's fine," Claire spoke quickly, not wanting to discuss what had almost happened.

"It's not."

"Discussing it isn't going to change that, so just drop it," Claire told him. "We should get some sleep, anyway."

"About that," Sylar interjected before she could turn away. "We're going to have to do something about the sleeping arrangements."

Claire furrowed her brow at him. "Why?"

"Well, what if I need a quick fix in the middle of the night?" he asked her. "The closer you are, the easier it is for me to get control."

"You're not suggesting ..."

"You and I both know how easy it would be for me to slip out of this house without waking you," Sylar reasoned.

Claire pressed her lips and teeth together tightly, glaring at him. "Fine," she gritted out. "But you're sleeping on the floor."

Sylar followed her up the stairs to her room. "Well, that doesn't seem right. I mean, you're the one who can't feel pain. Why should I wake up with wreck-neck?"

"Your 'wreck-neck' won't last, genius," she retorted.

Sylar grinned at the more-than-slight trace of venom in her voice. "Can I at least have a pillow?"

"Get it from your own room," she replied, stopping at her doorway. She turned to face him. "If you enter this room before I'm done changing, I will -"

"Cut off the protruding parts of my body - repeatedly. I know," Sylar finished for her.

She glared at him for a moment before closing the door and changing back into her pajamas. Claire wondered how much progress they'd really made in the last couple hours. He seemed to be over the worst of it. She had to wonder how effective the meditation really was, if it kept turning him into an animal whenever he did it. Or maybe it was just her interrupting the process that caused him to freak out.

Once she was finished changing, Claire opened her door again and retreated to her bed. She slid under her covers just as Sylar made his way into her room, pillow and blanket under one arm, clothed only in a pair of grey pajama bottoms. Claire looked away from his naked chest, readjusting her position on the bed. "I hope you don't snore," she spoke, to find something else to focus on.

Sylar smirked, tossing his pillow down on the floor, he paused before he laid out his blanket, quirking an eyebrow at her. "Do you snore?"

Claire looked around the room as she thought. "I don't know. ... No one's ever told me that I have."

"Hmm," Sylar mused.

"What?"

He shrugged, laying out the blanket. "It's nothing."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Now who's being childish?"

Sylar grinned, dropping down on one side of the blanket as he pulled the other side over his lower half. "Well, if you must know, that sounded more like a 'no one's ever been in a position to tell you if you snore'. ... Has anyone?"

Claire stared down at him. "You're not seriously asking me that?"

"It would seem that I am," Sylar answered. "You _did_ start it ... now you've got me curious. And you _know_ what happens when I get curious."

Claire glared heavily at him, grinding her teeth for a moment before she gritted out, "The answer is no."

Sylar nodded, a seemingly self-satisfied look on his face.

Claire fingers curled and tensed, envisioning wrapping them around his throat. The moment passed eventually, and she rolled on her side, away from him.

"All kidding aside, Claire?" Sylar spoke after a minute.

Claire looked over her shoulder at him, waiting for him to continue.

"If this ... experiment doesn't work, I need to know you'll do what needs to be done."

Claire sighed, turning her head back to look at the wall. "You actually sound sincere," she commented, finding it easier to talk to him when she was focused on the wall.

"Does that surprise you?"

"Yes," Claire admitted. "I guess ... I don't know, I'm not used to you being so ..."

"Good?" Sylar offered.

"That's one word for it, I guess," Claire reluctantly agreed. "I had you labeled as villain ... I'm just having a bit of difficulty accepting the ... new you."

Sylar nodded, even though Claire couldn't see him. "Well, for what it's worth, I am sorry, Claire. I'm trying, here, I am. But if it doesn't work, you'll have to kill me."

Claire sighed. "I'm not a killer."

"You've killed me as least four times tonight," he argued.

Claire shook her. "I didn't leave you dead." There was a scratch in the wall in her line of sight, and she brought her finger up to toy with it, needing something to busy herself with.

"You might have to -"

"Can you stop with the pessimism? You're just dooming yourself to fail," Claire told him. "Just ... go to sleep."

Sylar was silent, and Claire refused to look away from the spot on the wall. He turned the lights off with a flick of his finger, and settled in for a long night of unpleasant dreams.

...

They didn't make contact with the others that day. Sylar needed some time to adjust, and Claire didn't want to chance him having a "relapse" around them. The next day, though, Buffy called them and told them that there had been more killings in town, and starting to spread to the outskirts. She was worried that the Uber-Vamps were starting to break off into packs and migrate, and she wanted to find them and hunt them down before they got away.

So, that was how Claire spent her Christmas Eve. No family dinner, no laughter and trips down memory lane, no eyeing presents under the tree. Nope, she was wandering around the back alleys of town with the girl who saw no use for tact: Anya.

"Over a thousand years old?" she questioned the girl. "Seriously?"

"I know, I look fantastic for my age," Anya agreed. "It was a wish gone wrong. My amulet got destroyed during a wish, and now I'm stuck as a mortal, in this form."

Claire had never considered that there could be such a thing as an ex-demon.

"You and Xander certainly make an interesting couple," Claire commented.

"Yes, we do," Anya agreed. "What about you and Sylar?"

Claire looked around the alley as she answered. "We're not together like that," she spoke with an odd tone of voice. "He's just ... my dad's partner."

"He looks at you with sex eyes," Anya commented.

If Claire had been drinking something, she probably would have sputtered it out. Instead, she had to settle for choking on her own inhale of breath. "Excuse me?"

Anya explained, "He undresses you with eyes ... pretty much all the time."

Claire shook her head, a flush of heat crawling up her neck. "That's not ... that's not what he's doing. He's ..." Before she could continue, she was jumped from behind. Claire collapsed her knees immediately, rolling forward and launching the vampire off of her.

Anya reacted almost as quickly, pulling a cross and holy water out of her pockets. "Be very afraid!" she announced to vampires surrounding them.

Claire pulled her own cross out from under her shirt, pulling a collapsible machete out from under the back of her jacket and whipping it out to open it fully.

The vampires gave momentary pause at their readiness, but continued to swarm them, more stepping out from the shadows. Finally, at least seven Uber-Vamps had them surrounded in the alleyway.

Claire stood back-to-back with Anya, their weapons at the ready. "Any time now would be _great_," Claire commented loudly, and a few seconds later, the three vampire in front of her were lifted off their feet and thrown back against the alley wall. Anya flung holy water at the vampires to her left, and Claire charged with her machete at the ones to her right.

Sylar and Xander came out of their hiding places, joining the fray. One by one, Sylar decapitated the three vampires that he had pinned against the wall. Xander quickly moved to Anya's side, tossing her a blade as he pinned one vampire to the nearest wall with a very large crossbow. While the vampire struggled to get free, Anya swung with the double-sided weapon and severed its head, watching as it disintegrated into dust.

Claire had to put her whole body into the swing, but she managed to remove one vampire's head before another pounced on her, taking her down. She could hear a slight sizzle and smell the burning of flesh, and then the cross was ripped from her neck. Claire reached around for her machete, trying to get free, but the vampire sunk his teeth into her neck before she could reach it. Claire tried to force the thing off of her neck, but he was salacious, and his hold was far too strong.

Suddenly the vampire stopped what it was doing, and turned to snarl at someone else. A half-second later, it's head was removed from its body.

Claire looked up, prepared to thank Sylar for killing the vampire, and was surprised to see Spike offering her a hand up. She took it carefully, narrowing her eyes at him. "I thought Buffy said you couldn't fight? You were supposed to be our scout."

Spike shrugged. "I got bored. Thought I'd test out a theory. Turns out, I can hurt 'bad' things."

Claire looked around to see Sylar help Xander and Anya finish off the last vampire, and then the only sounds that could be heard were ragged breathing and the buzzing of florescent lights from the buildings around them.

"You okay?" Sylar asked, glancing at Spike.

Claire nodded, brushing herself off. "You certainly waited long enough to jump in," she commented.

Sylar answered, "Had to make sure there were no stragglers. Unless you'd prefer that we let some of them get away?"

Claire rolled her eyes.

"You make excellent bait, I will say," he complimented.

"We should check in with Buffy," Xander interrupted. "Let her know how many we got, and where we're going next."

Sylar nodded, tossing him his cell phone.

Claire moved across the alley to retrieve the cross that Buffy had supplied for her, retying the torn strap and sliding it back over her neck.

"Seven down in less than two minutes," Anya commented. "Not too bad. Nice to have use of your big guns," she said to Sylar.

Xander pouted at her compliment.

"Not that you didn't look completely sexy with your crossbow," she added, smiling at him.

Xander smiled back, drawing her in for a kiss.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stick around and what you too engage in some foreplay, I'd say we have more pressing matters?" Spike suggested.

Sylar happened to agree with him, motioning for Claire to walk with him. The three of them took to the front as they made their way out of the alleyway, looking for another hot-spot, while Xander and Anya followed behind.

...

_End of chapter thirteen. _

_Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	14. Chapter 14

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Fourteen. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. Brief mention of a classic movie which I also do not own. _

_..._

_A/N: Thanks for the great reviews, I'm so glad you guys are still liking this story! _

_I'll respond to some reviews here: _

_**Gamebird:**__ Thanks for the review! I too am not sure about machetes, but I do know that they made/make collapsible blades, so for the purposes of that fight, the blade was about the size and shape of a machete. Possibly something that Giles designed himself, or something that he had in his collection. That'll just be left to interpretation. As for the "salacious" word-choice: Yes, I know it means characterized by lust, and I did intentionally use that word. Blood-lust, to be specific, because these vampires have been underground for an untold period of time, and are beyond hungry. I thought about having the vampires react differently to Claire's blood - because of its regenerative qualities - but then it would bring up the issue of what it would do to them, if it would heal them (but even then they still wouldn't have their soul) ... so, instead I decided to just go with the idea that her blood is "tastier" than other people's blood. I'm glad you liked the Sylar bits, I had a lot of fun writing the "bedroom" scene. Hopefully, there will be another "bedroom" scene coming up soon that I'll have even more fun writing ... we'll see how it goes. _

_**WickedPlumVintage:**__ Thanks for the review! Yes, I did write Xander and Anya a tad more "bad-ass" than they normally are in the show. But, I couldn't resist ... it was too much fun. _

_**aclassicistkitten:**__ Thanks for the review! I'll try to work more Spike in with the next few chapters, we'll see how it goes. 'Cause this is mostly a Sylar/Claire fic, the other pairings haven't gotten much light, but I'll try to work some scenes in with him and Buffy, and some banter perhaps with him and Sylar. _

_**Everyone else:**__ Thanks for all the great reviews, I'm super psyched that you guys are enjoying this story so much! _

_Alrighty, that's enough out of me, let's get on with the story!_

_I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Two-and-a-half hours later, they'd killed a grand total of 19 vampires. Xander was nursing a cut lip, a black eye, and a twisted wrist, Anya sprained her ankle, Willow and Tara were drained from using their magicks to restrain the vampires they had come across long enough for Buffy and Giles to slay them, and Claire had already "died" three times that night.

When they all gathered together in the center of town, they were looking fairly disheveled, but had suffered no fatal casualties.

"All in all, I'd say that was excellent for a night's work," Giles commented.

Claire nodded in agreement. "This was actually fun."

"Sure, for you," Xander commented, holding his hurt wrist against his chest. "You can't die permanently."

Claire nodded, pursing her lips. "Well, I thought it was very heroic, how you tried to pull those two vampires off of me."

Buffy raised her eyes in astonishment. "Two Uber-Vamps?"

Xander shrugged. "Ahh, it was nothing."

"I disagree," Anya spoke. "It was extra-something. You could have died. I find that very arousing."

Xander coughed, looking down.

Buffy took up the slack in conversation. "Well, Mom pushed back dinner tonight so you all could come," she told them. Glancing over at Sylar and Claire, Buffy added, "I'm sure she could make up a couple extra plates if you wanted to join us ... I know it must be rough, not being with your families at this time of year."

Claire opened her mouth to thank her and tell her that they'd love to come, but she saw how Sylar was struggling with his control, now that they were all back together again, so she thought better of it. "Actually, we've already got our own holiday dinner planned out back at the house," she lied. "But thanks for the offer."

Buffy nodded, glancing at her assembled friends and Spike.

"So, am I invited as well?" he wondered cockily.

Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, seeming to be having an internal debate.

"He did help," Xander admitted reluctantly.

"And it's not fair to be alone on the holidays ... no matter how, you know, creepy they are," Willow added.

"Thanks for that, luv," Spike replied.

Willow shrugged. "Any time."

Buffy sighed. "Fine, you can come. But the only sustenance your getting is turkey and gravy."

Spike bobbed his head once with a grin, flicking his hands at Claire in a wavy gesture before making his way down the street. Willow said her goodbyes to Claire and Sylar before she and Willow made their way with Xander and Anya towards Buffy's house.

Buffy faced Sylar and Claire once more. "Thanks for your help tonight," she told them earnestly. "I know I didn't exactly roll out the welcome mat, but ..."

"It's okay," Claire told her, glancing at Sylar to see that he was struggling. Instinctively, she grabbed his hand, giving him an anchor to hold onto. "We should probably get going."

Buffy didn't miss the action, but didn't exactly get the impression that Claire was doing it to hold him back. "Right. ... Well, have a nice Christmas."

"You too," Claire replied, nudging Sylar in the direction of the parking lot they'd left their car in.

Sylar's hand returned the pressure on hers, squeezing hard as he fought against himself to turn and use his abilities on Buffy.

Though it didn't cause her pain, Claire could feel his distress through the crushing of her hand. Without really thinking, she said the first thing that popped into her mind. "I'm ticklish under my right ear."

Sylar blinked, looking down at her.

The others were far out of earshot by now, and Claire turned so that she was in front of him, with his back to the retreating figures. "When I was kid, if I was mad at my parents, all they would have to do was tickle the spot behind my ear, and I would laugh, and everything would be perfect again."

Sylar's right hand was still wrapped around her hand, so with his left, he reached up slowly, bringing it towards her neck. Claire tensed, but didn't try to stop him as his fingers brushed the hair away from her neck and behind her head. Through use of his _clairsentience_ ability, he was able to see Claire's childhood reactions to the spot behind her ear being tickled: the bright smile on her face, the giggle that would erupt from her and how she would squirm away while laughing. Slowly, softly, his fingertips caressed the skin just behind her ear, moving in delicate circles ... not too firmly, because the moment wasn't about humor, it wasn't about making her laugh.

Claire shivered in response to his touch, her eyes closing briefly as her body swayed slightly. Without meaning to, she leaned into the touch, dipping her head forward enough that her hair fell back down over Sylar's hand.

He pulled away then, easing his hold on her hand at the same time. Looking at the road ahead of them, Sylar spoke, "Thank you. That helped." He continued walking the two blocks to where their car was parked, Claire following behind him in silence.

...

The smell that reached Claire's nose as she trotted down the stairs after she'd showered and changed her clothes was a glorious one. She'd figured when Sylar had said he'd take care of dinner, that meant that he would just order in something - she hadn't even thought about holiday hours, and how unlikely that would have been. So, when she walked into the kitchen to see him straining fettuccini noodles with one hand while he controlled a wooden spoon stirring sauce with the other, her eyebrows raised in surprised delight. A glance at another burner on the stove showed a delicious looking stir-fry sizzling away.

"Would you mind setting the table?" Sylar asked her without turning around.

Claire paused for a moment, her surprise overtaking her body's ability to move, but then she snapped out of it, moving towards the cabinets. The dishes they had were few, but of a pleasing design ... more fancy than anything Claire had at home; perhaps something the Petrellis would have. At any rate, they seemed to fit the occasion.

Claire decided to move the table into the living room, instead of eating in the small kitchen once again, pushing the couch back against the wall to make room. She set their plates across from one another, grabbing glasses, silverware, and cloths to put the hot pots and pan on. After a second, she dug around for some candles, setting them up on the table as well.

She moved to the fireplace, laying out the wood and striking one of the large matches that came with it, placing the burning stick at the bottom of the pile until the timber caught fire, filling the room with a warm glow. Next she made her way to the Christmas tree, which she had fully decorated the day before, and turned on the lights, the red and green offer a more merry glow. Claire smiled at her work, turning around to see Sylar coming in with the food. She went into the kitchen to grab the sauce and serving spoon as he set out the pasta and stir-fry, passing him on her way back in. Before she sat down, Claire lit the candles on the table, completing the scene.

She didn't let herself think about how romantic the setting was, or how odd it was to be sharing such an intimate meal with Sylar. She just wanted to enjoy the night, have a merry Christmas. Her new inner mantra was making the best of the situation, however she could.

When she came back from returning the matches to the mantle above the fireplace, Sylar was waiting to pull her chair out for her. She was surprised at the action, deciding that Sylar must be making it his mission to surprise her that night. She nodded her thanks, moving to her seat and easing into her chair as he slid it slightly closer to the table.

As Sylar stepped away from her chair, Claire noticed the bottle of wine that he'd brought to the table, watching as he removed the cork with an upwards flick of his fingers. She thought about declining her glass, but was silent as he filled hers halfway, doing the same to his own.

"This is ... pretty great," Claire commented, motioning at the meal that he'd made.

Sylar nodded his agreement, sitting down in his chair. "I'm glad you like it."

Claire paused before picking up her wine glass. "What brought this one?" she wondered, carefully taking a sip.

Sylar shrugged, looking down at his plate. "You seemed pretty excited about the whole 'Christmas' thing ... just wanted you to have a nice holiday meal."

Claire was surprised at both his honesty, and that he'd gone out of his way to do something so thoughtful for her. She couldn't quite wrap her head around that, and they spent the rest of meal in relative silence.

After they finished dinner and cleaned up the table, they moved the furniture back into place and settled down onto the couch, flicking on the TV. Claire scrolled through the channels, smiling as she settled on a familiar movie.

"Really?" Sylar asked her, quirking an eyebrow.

Claire fixed her lips into a haughty grin. "_It's a Wonderful Life_ is a classic. One you will enjoy, or retreat to your room."

Sylar held her gaze for a moment, before returning his attention to the television, settling back against the couch to enjoy the black and white movie.

...

Claire woke the next morning with a smile on her face. There were no white flakes falling from the sky, or jaunty Christmas tunes floating throughout the house, but there was a distinct air about the house that only Christmas could bring. She stretched happily in her bed, wiggling her toes and breathing deeply through her nose. She smelled bacon being cooked in the kitchen, and another smile made its way onto her face without her consent. She was beginning to grow quite fond of Sylar's cooking ... she would almost be sad to have to give it up once they returned to their own world.

Claire shook her head at that thought, throwing the covers off of herself and making her way to the second-floor bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth. Once she was sufficiently minty fresh, she wrapped her robe around herself and made her way down the stairs, letting her nose lead the way.

As she was about to walk into the kitchen, she happened to glance at the tree, and noticed a present sitting underneath it. One solitary, black box, with a small, red bow tied around it was nestled comfortable under the hanging branches and decorative ornaments. Claire blinked, staring at it.

"Breakfast is just about ready," Sylar announced, glancing at her over his shoulder.

Claire nodded slowly, looking from the tree to Sylar's back. "What's under the tree?" she wondered.

Sylar paused his movements briefly, before returning to the task of removing the bacon from the pan, setting it out on a bed of paper towels to soak up the grease. "I guess Santa stopped by," he answered simply.

Claire narrowed her eyes. "And he only brought one present?" she challenged.

Sylar shrugged. "Well, I guess he knew how naughty I've been this year."

Claire sighed, moving into the kitchen to help him with the plates. "You didn't have to do that."

He simply shrugged again. "Don't make such a big deal out of it, Claire. It's just Christmas."

She nodded, feeling a little guilty that she hadn't gotten him anything. Truthfully, she'd hoped they would be home by now. She missed her family.

They took their meal - omelets, French toast and bacon - into the living room to eat while they turned on news reports. There was no talk of more killings - at least, no more than usual - so Claire figured they must have done alright on their vamp-sweep the other night.

They finished their breakfast in silence, Claire's eyes darting to the tree every couple minutes. Sylar sent their plates into the sink with his telekinetic ability, and then moved towards the tree to pick up her present, sitting back down on the couch and handing it to her.

Claire chewed on her bottom lip, oddly nervous about unwrapping the present.

"It won't bite," he commented.

Claire nearly rolled her eyes, but just stared at him instead. She blinked a couple times before she looked away, sitting sideways on the couch. Her fingers slowly pulled at the red ribbon, undoing the bow and watching the two sides flutter down. She rubbed her fingers together a couple times before she carefully removed the lid of the box, looking down to find another box within. This one was clearly a jewelry box, not long enough to be a necklace and not short enough to be earrings or a ring. She found herself inexplicably relieved by that, though she didn't voice her relief. She pulled the other box out, glancing once at Sylar before she opened it, finding a beautiful, white gold bracelet within. It had delicate, yet exquisite designs along the length of the thin material, signifying that someone had spent an extraordinary amount of time perfecting the bracelet. Was it special ordered? Was it simply something that he saw, and thought she would like? Did he really take the time to think about what she would or wouldn't like? Or did he simply know her that well?

Claire swallowed even though there was nothing in her mouth, pulling the bracelet out of the box and holding it up. "I ... um ... I can't accept this."

"Hmm," Sylar responded. "I think Santa might take offense to that."

Claire eyed him pointedly. "Sylar ..."

"No strings attached," he insisted, taking the bracelet out of her hands and pulling her left wrist forward, gently securing the bracelet around her wrist. "Tada," he commented when he was done.

Claire pursed her lips, unable to deny that it looked good. "I just ... I didn't get you anything."

Sylar shrugged, moving to sit up from the couch. "I don't need anything."

Claire stopped him with a hand on his arm, the bracelet reflecting the light from the room with a calm shine. "Wait. I don't ... I don't have any presents to give you, but I want ..." Claire sighed, struggling to find her words. "Look, I'm not quite there yet, but we've gotten to know each other a bit better since we've been here, and ... I haven't quite forgiven you yet, but I want you to know that I think I will. Soon, I think ..." Claire looked away, not sure what she was trying to say.

"So, like an 'I.O.U' forgiveness?" Sylar wondered.

Claire glanced back at him, tilting her head. "Yeah ... I guess so." She noticed that her hand was still on his arm, and pulled it away slowly.

Sylar nodded, standing up from the couch to put the wrappings from her present away. When he was out of sight, a genuine smile reached his lips, one that he hadn't felt in a long time.

...

_End of chapter fourteen. _

_Well, what did you guys think of that one? Like it, hate it? _

_These chapters seem to be getting slowly shorter ... I'll have to do something about that. _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


	15. Chapter 15

_..._

_A Sylar/Claire, Buffy/Spike, Willow/Tara, Xander/Anya fic. _

_Chapter Fifteen. _

_..._

_Disclaimer: See Ch. 1. _

_..._

_A/N: Sorry about the long wait! I'll try to get this finished. If you've given my profile a read, you know that because of my ADHD, I get distracted and move on pretty easily, so it's hard for me to stick with a longer fic. I promise I haven't abandoned this; I do intend to finish it! _

_Thanks for all the great reviews/alerts/favorites so far, guys! You rock! _

_I hope you guys like this one, I know I'll love writing it. _

_As always, please read and review, I live for feedback! _

...

Sylar found sleep impossible that night. Christmas with Claire had been a relatively pleasant experience, and her "I.O.U." had been thoughtful, touching, and all the other nice descriptive words. Perhaps it was that thought that kept the ever-restoring unconsciousness from his grasp. That, and he was feeling the all-too-persistent pull of his blasted hunger. It had been _so long_ since he'd acquired a new power, so long since he'd felt the power seep into his own body.

Lying on the floor of Claire's bedroom, the hard wood digging into his firm body, he found himself tapping his hands against his naked stomach. He needed to move, he needed to go out there and prowl the streets ... maybe find that redheaded witch's room and slip in all quiet like.

Sylar closed his eyes, bringing a hand up to his head and brushing it down over his eyes. No. He couldn't do that. He didn't _want_ to do that. He wanted to be good, he wanted to be someone that Claire could be proud of.

That thought struck him deep in his core, not even realizing the impact of it until the silent words fluttered through his buzzing mind. He wanted Claire to be proud of him ... he wanted her to like him. Maybe even love him. Was such a thing even possible? Somehow, she managed to push down his hunger, with the most insignificant personal facts. Like her favorite color, or the ticklish spot under her ear. A fierce desire coursed through him, wanting desperately to rise up to the bed where she slept and brush his fingers over that spot again. _Just one touch_, he thought. _That's all I need_.

Sylar shook his head, knowing that wouldn't go over well. The tender truce that had manifested between them would be forever tarnished if she woke up with him hovering above her, his fingers on her body.

Sweat was beginning to pour over his brow, his body fighting with itself as the hunger grew and grew. Finally, he decided that he would have to wake her up. Get her to tell him something new about her that he didn't already know, and hope it would push down the murderous and/or sexual desires that flooded his blood. Sylar turned onto his side, hoisting himself up onto his elbow and opening his mouth.

Before he could speak, however, Claire turned over on her bed, lying flat on her stomach with her closed eyes facing him. She didn't wake, but her right hand dropped off the mattress, hanging over the side of the bed.

Sylar's eyes traveled from her face to her hand, back and forth repeatedly. With his heightened hearing, he could listen to her steadily pumping heartbeat. She was still in a deep slumber. Slowly, cautiously, Sylar lifted his left hand off of his side and closed the distance between their two hands. He waited a breath before touching her, their hands millimeters apart for a couple seconds before he finally touched his rough skin against her soft hand. A small, static-electric spark was created at the touching of their hands. It was enough to make Claire's hand twitch slightly, and pause her breathing slightly.

Sylar stared at her with slightly widened eyes, hoping she wouldn't awake and see him grasping her hand.

The seconds ticked by, and then Claire simply turned her head so that it was facing the wall, falling back into a deep sleep. Her hand remained hanging over the side of the bed, well within his reach.

Sylar scooted his body slightly closer to the bed, making it easier for him to hold onto her small hand. After a little while, he used his telekinesis to carefully open her hand and enable him to link his fingers with hers. His eyes continued to flicker between her hand and her head, making sure she didn't stir. When he was sure she wouldn't awaken, he lowered the elbow that he was using as a perch, tucking it under his head on his pillow. He bent his fingers slowly, softly against her hand. He was about to use his powers to fold her own against his hand, but before he could, he felt them twitch of their own accord, and then bend down into place.

Sylar stopped breathing himself, blinking a few times as he stared at their joined hands. She was still asleep; the even inhale and exhale of her breathing told him that. She had unconsciously accepted his hand in hers.

A strange feeling began to fill his body, completely dragging the hunger out of his mind. With his hand folded underneath hers, Sylar felt his body relax. He felt content for the first time since she'd given him the verbal promise of forgiveness. It hadn't really been that long ago - a few mere hours - but it felt like a lifetime.

Sylar closed his eyes and focused on her hand; the warmth of her skin against his, the light dip of her lifelines, how each knuckle felt nestled comfortably against his. He used her as his crutch and his anchor, not needing to put much effort now into pushing the homicidal thoughts from his mind.

...

Claire spent the next few days after Christmas alternating between research and patrolling with Sylar and Buffy's 'gang'. She had grown closer with Willow and Xander, and with Tara, who was less shy around her now. Sylar's hunger was still touch-and-go, but she had gotten pretty good at sensing his discomfort, and coming up with some tidbit about herself that seemed to ease the strain. It boggled her mind that such seemingly insignificant facts - like the fact that she was ticklish behind her ear, or that she'd once hidden a kitten in her room because her parents wouldn't let her keep him - could "tame the beast" within him, however temporarily.

He seemed to regard her differently, as well. Ever since she'd told him that she wanted to forgive him, he'd been different around her ... calmer, maybe. He didn't taunt her as much, or try to get under her skin ... truth be told, she was actually starting to miss it. It was that odd thought that had her mind unfocused while they were on their patrol with Xander, Anya, and Spike.

Claire was blindsided by a vicious, growling creature. He slammed her to the ground, crushing her body beneath his. Before she could even attempt to get out from under him, her neck was snapped, and everything went black.

It took Claire under fifteen seconds for her bones to heal and snap back into place, and in that time, Sylar had killed the demon that had attacked her, and then the group had been surrounded by men in camouflage toting guns and wearing masks.

"Hostile 17, get down on the ground," one man shouted.

"Keep your hands where we can see 'em!" another one ordered Sylar, whose fingers twitched dangerously in response.

Claire was slightly disoriented, but stood shakily from the ground.

"What the hell?" a few of the soldier-looking men commented, training their guns on her.

"Freeze right there, blondie," one man told her.

"You're going to want to point those things somewhere else," Sylar warned them, stepping in front of Claire.

"What's going on?" Claire asked, looking at the men who surrounded them.

"Claire, Sylar, meet The Initiative," Xander commented, his own hands raised. "Don't shoot us, we're the good guys," he told them.

"Yeah, right," the leader of the masked men replied. "That's why you're traveling with a vampire, a guy who can freeze and dismember a demon in 5 seconds flat, and some weird-ass chick who can survive her neck being snapped."

"You might want to consider that, and back off," Claire suggested, knowing that Sylar would only be able to restrain himself for so long.

"Not another word," the leader commented. "Take aim, boys. We're bringing these ones in alive."

"You're not taking us in anywhere," Sylar commented, and before Claire could stop him, he sent half of them flying back with a flick of his hand.

The ones remaining took their shots, hitting Xander, Spike and Sylar with electricity from their guns.

Sylar attempted to use his sound manipulation power to clear the rest of them away, but the constant stream of electricity was subduing the effectiveness of that power. He only barely managed to push them back a few feet, but the weapons remained trained on them. Xander and Spike hit the ground with the force of the electricity.

The men eased up on Xander, apparently realizing that he was human, but Spike and Sylar got a longer treatment.

With Sylar shielding her, Claire was safe from their attacks, but could hear the pain that it was causing Sylar. More than that, she could see his anger rising with his inability to defend himself. Glancing down, she could see the power stirring in his hands - the stolen, nuclear power that had nearly destroyed New York City. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled a couple of stakes out of the bag she carried. Taking a quick, deep breath, she stepped around Sylar and thrust the pair of stakes towards their attackers. One stake imbedded in the thigh of the man who was shocking Spike, the other struck Sylar's attacker in the right shoulder. Both attacks severed immediately.

The one who'd stopped his attack on Xander turned his gun on her.

"Finn, you alright?" he shouted, moving into a better position to hit Claire with his gun.

Sylar recovered slowly from the attack, but had enough power and anger within him to bark out a fierce shockwave, knocking them all off their feet. Their reprieve was short-lived, as the men that he'd sent flying back before now rushed back to the mayhem. "Come and get it!" Sylar roared, his hands fully alit with a bright, glowing energy.

"Sylar, calm down," Claire spoke, raising her hand to his arm to try and get him to focus on her.

Spike was attempting to get up to rejoin the fight, and Anya was cooing over a wounded Xander, cradling him in her arms.

Sylar didn't show any response to her words, the light from his hands expanding with every passing moment.

"What's going on?" Anya asked Claire in a loud, worried voice.

"You all need to leave, now!" Claire shouted, both to Anya as well as the men intent on "bringing them in".

Anya didn't need to be told twice, and she pulled Spike over to help her haul Xander off the ground. "What about you?" Anya called out to her.

"I'll be fine. Get to Buffy, tell her what happened, and tell her to get everyone as far away from here as possible!"

The leader heard Claire's words, the mention of Buffy's name. He stood up as straight as he could, pulling the stake out of his shoulder and nursing the wound. "Move out!" he ordered the men, sparing a long look for Claire.

The soldiers didn't need to be told twice, wary of Sylar's ability to toss them around like they were rag dolls, and equally confounded and fearful of the strange glow in his hands.

Claire kept an eye on the soldiers as they retreated, her eyes particularly following the leader. He seemed to pause and stare at her longer than the others, though she couldn't be sure with his mask on. She watched them until she couldn't see them any longer, and then squeezed Sylar's arm. "Sylar, they're gone. Calm down."

Still he didn't respond, his fury only increasing. His body shook with maddened tremors, and the rest of his body began to glow, a light orange seeping in with the white.

"Sylar!" Claire shouted, stepping fully in front of him and grabbing his other arm. "Stop, Sylar! Focus on me! Look at me!" She shook his shoulders to emphasize her words, but he was lost to them. "Dammit, Sylar! I ... I cried when I lost my first tooth!" she told him, saying the first random fact that came to her mind. "I chopped all my hair off when I was seven because my mom left the scissors out. I ate worms on a dare once, and then threw them up when I got home. Before I met you, I used to hate watching scary movies - now they all seem so fake. Sylar, dammit, look at me!"

Her words were futile. He couldn't hear her. He couldn't control the power within him; all he could do was stand there and let it out.

Claire didn't have time to think about what to try next, she just trusted her instincts. She raised herself up on her tip-toes, stretching her arms around his shoulders and pulling him against her. "It's okay," she told him, her hands holding tightly to his back. "It's okay, they're gone. They can't hurt us anymore. You saved me. Just breathe."

His body was warm. That was a simple way of putting it, really. His body was radiating a dangerous heat that luckily didn't hurt Claire. A constant throb was coursing through his body, one that she hadn't felt before she'd wrapped her arms around him. His power didn't seem to be increasing, but it wasn't going back down, either. She wondered if she finally had some shred of his attention.

Swallowing heavily, Claire prepared herself to continue into un-chartered territory. "Put your arms around me," she told him, hoping simultaneously that he could, and _couldn't_ hear her. She wasn't sure where this would lead, she just knew that she had to try something.

A long couple of seconds passed, and then his bright, hot hands came slowly up to rest on her back.

Claire nodded against his shoulder, feeling her own body temperature rising. She credited it to the radiation seeping off his body, not her own hormones. "Tighter," she instructed.

Again, it was a long moment before he reacted. When the message did seem to get through to him, he opened his glowing, fisted hands and splayed them across her back, holding her tighter until his palms gripped her sides.

"This is how I like to be hugged," she told him in a low, quiet voice, making him pay close attention to each sound and syllable. "Loose hugs feel weak, like there's no real effort being put into it. Big, bear hugs always would squish me too much, and it would always hurt my ribs and take the breath right out of me. But, this kind of hug? It's perfect. My dad can't quite do it right ... he still thinks that he'll break me, even though I can't stay hurt. My mom used to hug me like this when I was little, and I love it. It made me feel so loved and secure. No one else knew how to hug like this ... this is a good hug, Sylar."

His hands squeezed a little bit tighter. Claire found that without the pain, the warmth in his hands on her sides felt really nice. "I ... I like the way you hug me, Sylar," she confessed honestly, hoping it would be enough to bring him out of it. She felt a light rumble in his chest, almost as though he were growling, and then she saw the light coming from his body start to dim. His body slowly began to cool. Claire continued to hold him, not wanting to let go too soon and chance another outburst of nuclear energy.

The light faded, but his body continued to tremble with the aftershocks of the electricity, and the near explosion that had emanated from within him. There was no more danger to the town around them, but Claire still held onto his shoulders, pressing her body against his. "We're okay," she told him, not allowing herself to think of what she was doing. She couldn't let herself realize that she was clinging to a serial killer who had cut her head off, and killed her "frien-emy" right in front of her. She couldn't let herself dwell on the fact that she was supposed to hate him, and here she was, soothing him. All she thought of was that he was trembling, almost as though he were afraid, and she couldn't let him deal with that fear alone.

Sylar's fingers curled slightly against her sides, gripping her non-existent love handles in the palms of his hands for a while. "Thank you," he whispered, almost too soft for her to hear.

Claire bent her head down so that her forehead was resting just beneath his shoulder. "We should go back the house ... before those guys come back."

Sylar nodded, but didn't let go of her.

Claire breathed deeply through her nose, noticing for the first time the scent that was purely Sylar. A deep musk mixed with some kind of wood mixed in ... possibly because he'd been sleeping on the hardwood floor in her bedroom. The scent of his shampoo and body soap could also be smelled, and an unexpected vision of him standing in the shower, water cascading down over his soapy body, filled her mind. Claire blinked several times, pulling her head away from his body and looking up at him.

His dark eyes met hers, gazing down at her silently.

Claire felt her breath catch in her throat when his head dipped down ever so slightly, and her tongue darted out without permission to wet her quivering lips.

...

_End of chapter fifteen. _

_So terribly sorry about the long wait! I hope you can forgive me! I'll try to put some "fun stuff" in the next chapter to make up for it. _

_Well, what did you guys think of this one? Like it, hate it? _

_Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful. _

_Until next time ...! _


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